


Adore You

by arcadevia



Series: Adore You: The Series [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, American Sign Language, Bipolar Lance, Deaf Character, Deaf Hunk (Voltron), Deaf Keith (Voltron), Established Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, Minor Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Recreational Drug Use, Sign Language, but it’s very brief, fast burn, mechanic!keith, title based on that one Harry Styles song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:00:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22113730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcadevia/pseuds/arcadevia
Summary: ‘That’s not an insult.’Lance rolls his eyes. ‘I’m not trying to insult you.’Apparently that statement managed to unlock some reaction in Keith, because his posture changes from stilted to relaxed andflirtyfor god’s sake when he steps closer and pinches his thumb and index finger together to ask ‘Then what are you doing?’Or: How Lance quits being an asshole and it’s that easy to get a boyfriend.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Adore You: The Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847083
Comments: 56
Kudos: 329





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Hannah, who has forced me to finally write/start a fic against my will since I’ve tortured her through my sparknote ideas for almost two years.
> 
> —
> 
> Please excuse any inaccuracies, this made by a hearing writer. The dialogue is only written English translations as I figured using gloss would be less understandable, especially for those who don’t understand ASL format or the language in itself. Hope y’all enjoy :P

In the wake of his actions that contradict his internal belief of _‘we’re definitely just friends’_ , Lance finds himself sitting next to Keith on the couch of his living room, watching a movie that he’s paid not even half of his attention to. Because undoubtedly, that “just friends” has been complete bullshit since the time his friend leveled him with some kind of fondness and signed _‘We’re a good team’_ after a game of beer pong only a few months into knowing each other.

It was the most romantic game of beer pong he’d played in the year he’s spent with legal access to alcohol, and in the extra two not-so-legal ones when he’d said _“fuck it”_ and went all out the night after his high school graduation, (a memory he most definitely regrets). That bromantic clasp of his hand and Keith’s has definitely outdone the time this one blonde chick gave him a smile when his hand settled at her waist. Keith’s got nice hands; ones that Lance tries hard not to stare at when they motion through a flurry of signs during their conversations.

It goes like this: Hunk had invited him to the Deaf club near their university’s campus, otherwise known as _The Lion’s Den_. He’d been in the midst of sharing some outrageous (not really, he’s just dramatic) story when his friend’s eyes flicked over his shoulder and recognized the person who would later become Lance’s _‘definitely not boyfriend why does everyone assume that?’_ from across the room.

The first thought that jumped in his head at the sight of Keith was _“don’t fuck this up”_ but soon after Hunk’s brief introduction had Lance mindlessly thrown the effort out the window when he called Keith weird for bringing a book to a club. And then, soon enough the two of them had squabbled over what kind of activities were appropriate at the place because _‘it’s not like the hearing clubs anyway.’_ Which led to—

‘Earplugs?’ Keith gestured to his own ears. ‘You’re hearing?’

Lance shifted in his seat on the barstool next to Hunk. Although the position should have him nice and comfortable, for some reason Keith’s somewhat testing stance stood near them had made him feel less so. He nods. ‘My dad and sister were born deaf. I grew up learning both ASL and English.’

Keith nodded thoughtfully, and Lance hoped from then on that the sidetracked conversation afterward had distracted from their rocky start.

——

Even the face of his celebrity god— or uh, _crush_ , Ryan Reynolds, could not distract from the sensation of Keith’s arm slung across the back of the couch behind him. The hairs there were tickling his neck a little, and not to be dramatic but he thinks that maybe it would be okay to just simply never get up under any circumstances. Maybe a kidney infection is worth it if it means holding in his inevitable bladder so long as his hot friend is within arms reach. Literally, he guessed in this case. And if the arm hairs were enough the run goosebumps across his skin, then seeing Keith’s eyes trained on him instead of the flashing screen was a much stronger wave of _“God please does he like me back?”_ that he may have definitely not been prepared to face.

‘What?’ he furrows his brows with a confused smile. Keith returns it with fondness and his bangs flip a little when he shakes his head sweetly. ‘Nothin.’ His spare hand lolls before landing back on his leg. The statement is complete shit, or at least Lance hopes.

‘Something on my face?’ he swirls his index finger pointed toward himself with a questioning look, but Keith shakes his head again and this time the smile turns toothy and his awfully sharp and kind of adorable canines peak through. He flippantly pinches his fingers, ‘No no no.’

It’s _not_ a date, like, dates can’t happen at someone’s house! That’s against the date rules! But Keith probably doesn’t know the date rules and Keith maybe likes him back and Keith maybe doesn’t mind when Lance rolls his eyes and signs ‘Liar’ before totally nonchalantly scooting closer and resting a head on his shoulder. The space between them becomes even less apparent, and the arm that pulls him just a bit closer has Lance thanking every deity for having the house to himself today. Keith smells so nice. And Lance is _so_ fucked.

Only a tinge of disappointment runs through him when Keith returns to intently reading the closed captions and training his focus back on the movie altogether. He’s definitely a movie geek, especially with Marvel since that’s most of what they’d bond over while getting to know each other. Their Team Cap vs Team Iron Man argument feels like just yesterday. Which it was. Pidge had smacked their hands in the middle of it and said they fight like a married couple. Lance was kind of okay with the idea of them together like that, but then he got dragged back into Keith wildly explaining his logic once Pidge stalked away. _“His eyes are so pretty,”_ he’d thought to himself while Keith poked him in the shoulder and exclaimed _‘You’re stupid if you actually side with Iron Man.’_

‘Thanks for inviting me,’ Keith signs when they walk together just outside the front door. His motorcycle is parked in the driveway around the corner and Lance briefly wonders what he wouldn’t give to see the guy straddle that thing with those packed thighs and—

He nods politely and swipes his tongue over dry lips. It’s the best he can manage while his hand is gripping the door handle like a lifeline and the familiar flush creeps up his neck and toward his cheeks.

His cheeks. Keith leans in and kisses his right one; the faint wetness left there is something that feels practically unreal. Fuck that Olay face wash Lance bought the other day, this patch of skin is staying untouched by anything else. He’ll be sleeping on his left side tonight. The grin that stretches widely across his face aches and his dimple is surely dug deep with sincerity; there’s a reason his name sign is an L that pokes right at the spot.

As if on cue, Keith waves to him on the way to his motorcycle, calling to him through signing ‘Bye, Lance’ with a cheeky smile. Lance let’s his weight lay slack against the door and only manages a weak wave that has his hand flopping back to his side after Keith rounds the corner.

He’s definitely gotta be Lance’s boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/knockoffery)
> 
> Ah so obviously this will be longer if hopefully I don’t ditch this work in the future lol...
> 
> Basically my background with my involvement in the community is that I grew up with a deaf best friend for about eight years before she moved away. In high school I relearned ASL and I’m taking the third year class for it currently. I find the subject really interesting a hope to become more fluent to I can communicate with a lot more people and probably annoy the shit out of them like I do with all my hearing friends.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith sits up further, the rumpled blanket falling from his chest as his curiosity peaks. ‘Lance?’ He mimics the vaguely familiar name sign. ‘L-A-N-C-E M-C-C-L-A-I-N?’
> 
> Shiro nods and shifts from one hip to the other, clearly growing more impatient. But the thing is?
> 
> ‘It’s Sunday. Tell him to find someone else.’ He rolls his eyes and flops back under the pleasant warmth of his comforter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured I should add more development to how their friendship had started rather than immediately diving right into the relationship stuff (as much as I would love to go absolutely ham on that)
> 
> Also, again please please understand that the dialogue in this is English-ized. ASL has its own grammar, format, figurative speech, etc. I don’t want this to be misleading because people go into learning it expecting word-for-word translation when that’s far from the case. I’m doing my best to be respectful and in return I hope you readers do too!!

Lance 💙

_sylvio misses you btw,, it’s been like two months_

_Does he now?_

_Is he the only one?_

_literally have no idea what you’re talking about like at all_

_Uh huh…_

_stfu_

**Two months ago, it went like this** :

If Shiro flips the lightswitch one more time, Keith will be doing more than simply getting out of bed.

‘What?’ He signs after turning over angrily. ‘It’s Sunday!’ His arm drops back next to him from where he’s tiredly perched up from his pillow, only to keep from having the comforter yanked away by his brother for not paying attention. 

It’s very well within his ability to sleep with the lights on, as it makes up for other lack of precaution in case of an emergency. But trying to sleep through a makeshift strobe effect from the lamp on his nightstand may as well be the equivalent to having an alarm blaring in a hearing person’s ears. He’s been told it’s not very pleasant.

‘Lance called. His car broke down on C-O-A-C-H-L-I-N-E and needs help getting it to the shop.’ Shiro explains. He looks tired himself, hair skewed and shirt far from clean after eating spaghetti last night. But… a situation that calls for any service he can give always outweighs the man’s priority of lounging around. How he follows through with it? Keith doesn’t know, and will continue to avoid wanting to know.

Keith sits up further, the rumpled blanket falling from his chest as his curiosity peaks. ‘Lance?’ He mimics the vaguely familiar name sign. ‘L-A-N-C-E M-C-C-L-A-I-N?’

Shiro nods and shifts from one hip to the other, clearly growing more impatient. But the thing is?

‘It’s Sunday. Tell him to find someone else.’ He rolls his eyes and flops back under the pleasant warmth of his comforter. And although he can’t _hear_ Shiro’s footsteps per say, the man’s reactions are so predictable that it’s basically a short, 7 second countdown until his sweet solace is ripped away and the comforter is thrown into a heap on the floor next to his bed. Despite this, his arms stay flung over his eyes in a small protest against the inevitable, boy scout-esque lecture that always seems to end with Keith exasperatedly caving in to whatever favor is needed.

So maybe he’s not _that_ bad of a person. But really, it’s ironic that the guy who claimed he’d _‘never talk to an idiot with fingerless gloves again’_ is hitting them up with a desperate call for help only a couple days after that argument. Karma is a bitch, Keith thinks to himself, when you act like wearing certain articles of clothing is a war crime as well as bringing a book (an interesting one, mind you) to a _low-key_ club. It’s not like he was at a rave or some shit...

‘—but it’s rude to refuse—‘ Shiro continues insistently trying to persuade him but Keith readily smacks his hands away and signs ‘Ready in five minutes’ before pushing his brother out the door and scouring his room for a set of fresh clothes.

———

His help feels more like an accessory throughout it all, honestly. Shiro could’ve gotten the tow truck and simply opened one of the garages himself upon arrival before returning with whatever Lance had on his hands. Close it up, return the truck, and drive Lance home, come back tomorrow. Easy.

Not easy.

Because apparently Lance has to pick up his nephew from a birthday party by 3 o’clock, and Shiro only planned to carry out the first half since he’s got a doctor’s appointment _so_ _conveniently_ scheduled in the midst of this. By the way Lance’s hands whirl around as his mouth moves in a flurry to discuss the matter with the two of them, it seems to only be keeping them all from progress too. He flicks his bangs to the side and watches with furrowed brows, trying to make sense of what the boy is trying to sign _and_ say (which doesn’t work out very often) but can come up with nothing sensical. Maybe it’s the speed, or his dangerous proximity to Keith that’s otherwise just an open invitation to him getting smacked in the mouth. Either or.

By the expression on his brothers face too, he’s not the only one who can’t quite follow through with this.

‘—church— Mom— Uncle R-A-P-H-A-E-L— Texas—‘ Texas? _That’s it,_ he decides, _I can’t stand another second._

Keith steps forward to reach Lance’s shoulder just in time to avoid another karate chop in his direction. He latches on and hopes it comes across comfortingly before waving for the boy’s attention with his other hand. The reaction is instantaneous, overwhelmingly so, as now at the center of his focus are two wild and deep blue eyes. Were they always this color?

Lance seems to be guarded, his faltering hands now clutch opposite arms in a subtle attempt to soothe himself. He sucks his lips nervously and watches Keith through short, dark eyelashes with apprehension. Keith is just now realizing this is the first time he’s seen him without the obscure jean jacket he always sports; the few strange pins along the front never fail to confuse him. One has calligraphy so swirling and glamorous that Keith isn’t entirely sure what it even says.

 _There’s definitely some muscle under there,_ his mind unhelpfully supplies after glancing at where his hand meets Lance’s shoulder. He quickly shakes away the weird thought in favor of negotiating with his fr— _acquaintance_ while Shiro looks with interest a couple feet away.

Once Lance seems to be steady, Keith withdraws his hand. ‘Shiro,’ he starts with a wave of the T hand shape across his nose, a reference to a scar from the childhood incident his sign name takes after, ‘He has a doctor’s appointment soon.’ Immediately, Lance perks up in alarm like he’s on the brink of apologizing for this, as he hadn’t known before, but before he can do so, Keith continues. ‘My truck is here. You can ride with me and we can pick up your nephew together.’

Although it’s like, the absolute last thing he’d find himself offering lately given the circumstances he and Lance are under, he understands the feeling of swimming in a schedule filled to the brim and the distress that comes with it. The sunlight glinting off the machinery around them is also making Lance look weirdly _pretty_ today; and sue Keith, but he isn’t up for making a pretty(?) face disappointed this Sunday.

———

His truck is something he treasures just as much as the red motorbike sitting in their garage back home. The paint is a solid, sleek black that _does_ burn to the touch on particularly hot summer days but it’s his _baby_ , alright? Inside, it’s typically void of any belongings. But on the off chance something is kept in the car, it’s tucked away with neatness.

He feels the door whine as it’s swung shut before Lance follows his lead and hops in from the other side with grace. It’s a bit of a strange sight, like seeing someone from school in a setting that's _not_ school. Lance being in his truck makes this feel more personal, but he tries throwing the suspicion aside in favor of setting ahead toward their destination.

The truck comes to life soon after turning his keys in the ignition, it’s familiar shudder rumbling under Keith’s seat before the AC blasts cold air like there’s no tomorrow. He dials the setting down a bit though, because Lance doesn’t seem like the kind of person who enjoys winter in April. By how his head tilts back lazily and his shoulders relax underneath a loose grey t shirt, it seems he’s made the right choice. Keith’s mouth soon runs dry from staring at the column of Lance’s throat out of the corner of his eye for a little too long, so much for focusing on the road ahead…

A couple minutes of following Lance’s smooth directions and _not_ the expanse of his long neck (seriously how did it suddenly become such a big deal?) pass by until they reach a red light and Keith finally develops half a mind to just _breathe_.

On his second countdown from five, a blur sweeps at the edge of his vision and he turns over to see Lance, who’d waved to get his attention before asking, ‘You play music while driving?’

He looks over at the small, blank screen in the middle of the truck’s system controls. Usually he pays no mind to the lettering that blinks across it, naming each song that comes on; it’s only the time next to it he tends to keep track of.

 _“2:47 P.M.”_ It reads innocently, with no digital words parading by its side. He didn’t notice the quiet ride could’ve felt awkward to Lance, as opposed to a tolerable position he finds himself in day to day.

He shrugs. ‘Occasionally, but it’s loud,’ He signs, tapping a finger to his ear before turning it to a fist and shaking it. ‘A lot of deaf people like to feel it.’ Lance nods in understanding. He swings a Y hand shape in front of himself, replying with ‘My sister does too.’

‘I know you used earplugs at the club, is it too loud outside of it too?’ He keeps one hand clutching the wheel as the light flicks green and traffic eases onward. It’s taken him a lot of practice driving and communicating, a constant switch of his eyes: forward-right-forward-right— and so on. It’s within his capability though, now that Shiro has drilled the responsibilities into him that come with driving like this.

‘You remember?’ Lance asks, and by the way his brows raise and mouth pouts, he makes it more than clear it’s a teasing remark. Keith huffs. ‘That was only a month ago,’ he shoots back and mouths the words to make up for his lack of structure.

The rest of the car ride is dedicated to their back and forth, making fun of Keith for almost driving into the curb for the second time even though it’s _Lance_ who’s distracting him, and finally adjusting radio’s settings to Lance’s tolerance and Keith’s content. But _just_ when it gets to the sweet spot, they’ve reached the end of the compact neighborhood, a crowd of cars, herding either side of the street. It’d be a bitch for Keith to try pulling through with how lousy the parking jobs had been, but luckily Lance tells him he can make it the rest of the way himself.

After waiting for a couple minutes, Lance comes back into view from behind a vibrant cluster of balloons tied to a nearby mailbox, and before he knows it, Keith watches what he assumes to be the boy’s nephew zooming toward his truck with a toothy grin and paper bag clutched tightly in one hand. The kid’s head disappears momentarily once he reaches the side. His wisps of dark brown hair flapping wildly from a gust of fresh spring wind can be seen peeking just above the edge of the passenger window.

Out of the corner of his eye Keith sees Lance rush after him as the door is yanked open and Sylvio (Lance told him his name earlier) dives into the seat like he owns the whole truck himself and has been in it a million times. The action suddenly reminds Keith of how natural Lance’s approach to sitting there had also been, and he wonders if it’s just a McClain trait to hop about while carrying the same idea of home to any place they visit. It’s kind of intimidating.

Sylvio scoots in further with Lance in tow. When the door swings shut, the kid cranes his neck comically far back enough to stare up at Keith. His mouth opens just barely through a friendly smile, but it’s enough to assume he’s probably greeting the other. Keith raises his brows, tries his best to return the polite approach and smile back even though he isn’t quite sure how to go about this.

Lance quickly jumps in and leans down far enough to catch Sylvio’s attention. Keith peers around Sylvio’s head to see what’s the matter and watches the other explain with the same practiced patience a teacher would have with a young student. ‘Keith is deaf,’ He signs, but his lips move along too and it’s probably to aid Sylvio’s lack of fluency.

The mass of brown curls bounce eagerly as the young boy nodded with understanding. He turns to Keith, gives him a short wave to say ‘hello’ before turning to Lance for assistance, a K hand shape left hovering in the air next to him. ‘ _Keith_ ’ Lance supplies and shows his sign name, the side of his hand brushing up on the edge of his jaw twice in reference to the scar there. Sylvio turns back around and repeats the movement, then continues ‘My name is S-Y-L-V-I-O.’

It only takes a couple turns for assistance from his uncle to finish the introduction, but Keith appreciates the effort and admittedly the kid’s small hands are kind of adorable. He nods in approval and replies ‘Nice to meet you’ which the boy seems to recognize because his eyes brighten and shoulders shake from a little giggle. The statement is returned and honestly, he wouldn’t mind working through a whole conversation with this kid, even though he doesn’t have much experience with children in general.

Sylvio reaches into the goodie bag that rests in his lap and pulls out a small ring. He turns to Lance, murmuring something before Lance nods and looks to Keith. ‘He wants to give you his Captain America ring.’

This is probably the most affection Keith has been subjected to in a while, and no, he isn’t drawn to tears but if no one were around he damn well could’ve been. Keith takes the red, white, and blue ring that’s passed over to him. It’s cheap and plastic, the kind you’d find on premade cupcakes at the store but it’s a kind gesture nonetheless so he stretches it a little before slipping it onto his pinky. It’s probably the only finger it’d fit on anyway.

‘Thank you,’ He signs, mouthing the words before Sylvio nods and Lance ruffles his nephew’s springy curls.

Once they’re all buckled up, Keith carefully turns back down the street and out of the neighborhood. During the ride to the McClain household, he finds himself engrossed in a conversation with the others about their favorite superheroes, seeing as that has been the theme of the birthday party. With help from Lance, Sylvio excitedly rants about the new spiderman movie his parents took him to see a few days back, as well as all of the comic books he’s read.

That feeling that car rides back home are faster than car rides to the destination couldn’t have been any more true under these circumstances. Because after what felt like only ten minutes, Lance and Sylvio were saying goodbye once they pull over to their home.

It’s an ordinary, two story house with ivory colored walls and a sign at the door with looping letters reading a phrase Keith can only assume to be Spanish. He briefly wonders if Lance knows that language also.

‘Thank you again,’ Lance tells him one last time through the passenger window as his hands drum against the ledge anxiously. He seems conflicted while expressions flash across his face too quickly for Keith to understand. But he ends up finding out the reason for the boy’s trouble anyway when Lance signs with stilted movement, ‘Sorry I… was an asshole before… I think you’re cool, but I was just jealous.’

Of what? Keith immediately thinks before his brows knit and he questions: ‘Jealous?’ His pinky drags off his chin and he feels his head crane forward in confusion.

Lance rubs his neck nervously, and the motion shouldn’t be _that_ hot but under the beaming sun his eyes glow bright and the muscles underneath his shirt become more apparent than they’d been in the shaded garage earlier. ‘Yeah,’ he admits. ‘Seeing you and Hunk get along…’ His shoulders go slack with a sigh. ‘I didn’t want to be replaced.’

‘That’d be difficult,’ Keith counters and levels Lance with a sincere expression. ‘You’re a unique person. There’s no other Lances out there and Hunk is always going to appreciate you as a friend.’

Apparently Keith _really_ likes digging his own grave because if arguing with the guy got a rise out of him, then finally being encouraging brings on a whole new excitement. The way the other looks at him, a ghost of shock hovering throughout his stance, makes it seem as if he’d never been told that before. Keith doesn’t want to think about that possibility.

Lance drops his head between his shoulders, letting it hang there for a moment before swinging back up to face Keith with a considering stare before nodding a couple times. ‘Thanks,’ he replies shortly, before adding ‘Maybe we can _finally_ be friends too.’ He pops his lips when letting out a short puff of air, dramatically flicking his wrist in the sign _“_ finally”.

It makes Keith chuckle, but there’s still an underlying nervousness to the boy’s stance, so he nods with as much sincerity he can muster before offering they exchange numbers. The idea of texting the other while curled away with delight rippling through his body shot through his mind like a spontaneous flash from a camera. He should probably not get _too_ ahead of himself, but when later that night he gets the notification for messages that read:

_“hey hunk and i are setting up a party with some friends so i figured you should come too if you want?”_

and

_“since we’re friends now 😋”_

He just can’t help it. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/knockoffery)
> 
> So I hope that makes up for my short absence lol...
> 
> Most of the ideas in here are based off what I’ve learned about the Deaf community, the general lifestyle of a person who identifies with it, as well as this couple on YouTube I watch aka [Sign Duo](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCET0ZgnCFLi1369c3ZWfSFA) who share their experiences about their hearing/deaf relationship and also answer a lot of questions about it!!! (closed captions are provided)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance glances past him for a moment and sees the Arizona sunset slowly melting into rich hues of vibrant orange and bleeding red behind lines of jagged mountains. It’s a sight he disappointedly can never get right on camera, so instead he lets its gradually fading life tuck away into his memory and eventually become another pocket of nostalgia. Luckily, Keith is here with him. And unlike a short-lived painting in the sky, Keith stays anchored to the ground, striking a different sense of awe in Lance’s dreadfully poetic mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I’m becoming more concerned about the climate crisis we’ve found ourselves in, here’s a link to [reusable grocery bags](https://www.amazon.com/Reusable-Grocery-Bags-Shopping-Foldable-Bags-Groceries-Elastic-Washable-Lightweight/dp/B07H7JCD6J?SubscriptionId=AKIAILSHYYTFIVPWUY6Q&tag=duckduckgo-d-20&linkCode=xm2&camp=2025&creative=165953&creativeASIN=B07H7JCD6J). anyway hope u guys like this chapter

‘Only if I win the L——R-Y’ Keith’s fingers swiftly zip from one letter to the next. Lance swears the guy is one of the quickest spellers he knows, besides Rachel.

‘Wait wait wait,’ he stalls and holds up an L, leaning closer from his seat beside the other in their cramped booth. Everyone else is caught up in their own rundown of how life has been recently as comments overlap one another with confusing grace. ‘L-A-R-R-Y? What?’ he presses further.

The look of absolute delight that washes across Keith’s face is one that makes Lance curse internally for not somehow having his phone camera ready to capture it. Keith’s teeth are nearly fully exposed with how uninhibited his reaction unfolded, amusement laid bare like stepping out into sunlight. His shudders of laughter escalate the same way you’d take a running start before leaping into a pool, as notes stumble from short giggles to a hearty laugh. The crinkles next to his eyes make Lance understand that stupid, lovesick poetry his class studied in high school.

But he crosses his arms and tilts his chin up defensively, even when Keith grapples onto his shoulder for a moment before regaining composure. He watches him try to repeat the word, but after simply holding up the L he’s thrown back into another wheeze. ‘L-O-T-T-E-R-Y’ he finally spells at a pace Lance can handle. Yes, he does feels like an idiot.

Hunk seemed to have witnessed their little moment, and waved over for their attention with a hefty hand. ‘What happened?’ he asked curiously as Lance did his best in fighting the heat that crept up his neck from embarrassment.

It had been a while since they’d all gotten together like this. Lance had taken his time in recovering from the sucker punch of a terrible sleep schedule he managed to drag himself into once summer had begun; Keith had taken on extra work hours (much to his dismay); Hunk went with his moms to San Francisco for one of their birthdays; Pidge was probably hacking the government with ease just to renew old coupon codes for double stuffed oreos; and finally, Allura had a two week long trip visiting family in India only to come back with a mcfreaking _modeling contract_ of all souvenirs… By far probably one of the biggest L’s Lance has ever been thrown.

And now he’s stuffed in a booth at Buffalo Wild Wings while being made fun of by his friends.

As Keith explains his error, Lance doesn’t bother concealing the swat he gives to his (unfairly muscular) arm. From his other side, Allura tucks her chin into her white hijab to stifle her hushed laughter, this time having enough decency to consider Lance’s embarrassment. He can’t be mad though, not when her pink nail polish contrasting against the fabric sprouts all sorts of fashion-related questions he never thought his hand-me-down self would ever ask. Seriously, she would probably gag at the sight of his diarranged closet. Technically, she already has after catching sight of his bedroom in the background of his snaps. He still feels a tinge of shame remembering Allura’s response in the groupchat: _Lance I’m really hoping that’s a landfill and not your bedroom._ The carpet has remained clear ever since; she just has that impact.

With energy opposite to Allura’s hidden amusement, Pidge makes the tabletop vibrate from their own outburst that earns a couple glares, and their glasses end up sliding off the thin bridge of their nose and into their lap. It’s another one of several moments in which Lance’s slip up is the source of their entertainment. He internally hopes Hunk, dear, precious, ray-of-sunshine Hunk, doesn’t betray him the same way the rest have. But soon enough his friend levels a look with him and goes ‘Smart, Lance.’

He’s not too worried though because Hunk’s eyes always run warm with fondness throughout any interaction with his friends. His teasing rarely ever runs deep. He was also as strong of an influence in Lance’s signing development as his sister Veronica was, who constantly shared with him what she learned of ASL at the school she attended. They grew up practically attached at the hip, apart from schooling, because of the little age difference (basically Irish twins). When he met Hunk in his second year of high school, his fluency improved exponentially, especially thanks to how far his friend’s patience stretched. They were partners in crime within the first month of knowing one another.

‘L-A-R-R-Y,’ Keith teases one last time with relaxed amusement. His cheek is pressed against his knuckles with a crooked smile. One that makes Lance’s brain melt. In an attempt to hide the dangerous effect Keith has on him, he tugs off his own jacket and throws it over Keith’s face. No, he did not miss the way the pair of eyes roamed across his chest in the process. Yes, it will definitely be used against that fucker in the future.

And because Keith must be _so_ determined to add to this relentless streak of making Lance’s heart falter, he doesn’t return his jacket. No, he tugs it on instead while Lance gets progressively more red-faced and goes ‘How do I look?’ with a kiddish face that says _“Haha, I won”_ instead.

_Do not make me kiss you Keith please I can’t handle this anymore._

‘Terrible,’ He flicks and blows a raspberry. But that “terrible” may as well be referencing how poor his acting is because it actually fits the other quite nicely. Rolled up sleeves let Keith’s veiny forearms sit on display and even the bulk of his shoulders are snug underneath the material. Lance didn’t ever consider what Keith would look like in denim this way, that certain tight pair of jeans he wore made his ass stand out enough to forget. _America’s ass_ , he thinks to himself. _No wonder he’s team Cap._

Keith shakes his head like he knows the exact amount of thirst streaming through Lance’s thought process right now, and his weirdly purple-ish eyes make it all the more freaky. They’re either inherited from an ancient siren ancestor, or something’s in the disgustingly bland protein drinks he downs all the damn time. Does Adam really have to be a personal trainer? Couldn’t Keith live with a brother-in-law that perhaps has a career in something else? One that doesn’t make Lance feel bad about eating his mama’s delicious garlic knots?

The first time Lance met Adam, he had been thoroughly convinced the man was a celebrity that he just couldn’t recall. It had only made his jealousy of Keith swell too, even after discovering the apparent normalcy of Adam’s life. He believed Keith lured in attractive people the same way a king surrounded himself with riches. But looking at the Keith sat next to him now, twisting in such a ridiculous way only to read a pin on Lance’s jacket, the idea couldn’t be more untrue. If anything, Keith’s dorky tendencies imply he probably developed that natural influence by accident.

‘What word is this?’ Keith finally gives in and his expression is that of an aggravated puppy. The pin will probably remain just as frustrating until it’s finally deciphered, knowing how worked up he gets over things left unclarified. Lance contemplates whether he should let his friend dwell in frustration a little longer. He settles for answering anyway. 

‘G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S,’ His deft fingers make up for the earlier mistake. He looks at Keith with what he knows the other finds to be an obnoxiously polite smile, the kind one would level with a small child. It totally contradicts Keith’s returned, comically flat and unamused stare.

From the edge of his sight, an abrupt flash casts in their direction and flickers across Keith’s stone faced features for a split second. They both whip in its direction with alarm, only to find Pidge slumped against the booth’s cushioned back, cradling their phone in a loose grasp and continuing to stare at its screen with a pleasant smile. Lance already knew he’d feel the notification buzz in his pocket before it even happened. Little shit, their message probably went to the group chat too.

“Bruh,” he says flatly because Pidge is hearing and will be able to decipher the exact tone of _dude what the fuck_ in his voice. They set their phone onto the table and sit up with probably the most posture he’s ever seen them manage, just to feign nonchalance and sign (as well as say) “What?”

His disapproving head shake is betrayed by Keith’s little content huff when he pulls up Pidge’s snap on his phone. Before he can toss his ass of a friend into a black hole though, the food arrives and Pidge sneaks in a fleeting ‘You two are married’ while Keith is leaned across the table to grab his plate of fries.

Jokes on them though, because the B in their bromance has been tossed out since Friday. So while they throw themselves into chatting with the rest of the group, his foot knocks against Keith’s affectionately, unbeknownst to everyone else, and he doesn’t miss the faint nudge he gets back.

————

‘You look like someone from the 80s’ Lance teases once Keith retrieved his wallet from inside his truck.

After everyone finished eating, they dispersed into separate cars and headed for the movie theater, where one of the few captioned showings of _Spider-Man: Far From Home_ was to be held. Although it’d been a couple of months since the film was released, they’re still expecting a crowd so arriving early wasn’t too far of a reach. He vaguely recalls having to interpret Sylvio’s Spider-Man rant to Keith a couple months ago, in which Lance had only hastily signed _‘He’s spoiling the movie, just nod and smile.’_ Which Keith did with amusing grace.

So as he and Keith wait for the others, he kills time by carefully steering his train of thought around the giant swarm of butterflies that constantly obstruct it’s easy-going path. It’s a difficult task.

Keith leans back against the truck, leaving the door hanging open at his side while his phone continues charging in the driver's seat. ‘Like who?’ he challenges with a tilt of his head.

Lance glances past him for a moment and sees the Arizona sunset slowly melting into rich hues of vibrant orange and bleeding red behind lines of jagged mountains. It’s a sight he disappointedly can never get right on camera, so instead he lets its gradually fading life tuck away into his memory and eventually become another pocket of nostalgia. Luckily, Keith is here with him. And unlike a short-lived painting in the sky, Keith stays anchored to the ground, striking a different sense of awe in Lance’s dreadfully poetic mind.

‘J-O-H-N S-T-A-M-O-S,’ He responds as a total contradiction to his pondering from before. His shoe scuffs the parking lot ground underneath him from where he stands next to his dull car in front of Keith, anxiously teetering from one hip to the other while their waiting dwindles on. Keith mimics him, probably unknowingly, as he cocks out his own hip and readily shoots back, ‘That’s not an insult.’

Lance rolls his eyes. ‘I’m not trying to insult you.’

Apparently that statement managed to unlock some reaction in Keith, because his posture changes from stilted to relaxed and _flirty_ for god’s sake when he steps closer and pinches his thumb and index finger together to ask ‘Then what are you doing?’ The advance makes Lance’s breath hitch just a little, and Keith’s cheeky smile is nearly identical to the wickedly endearing one he sported while signing _‘Bye, Lance’_ just the other day. He knows what he’s doing.

Lance crosses his arms and schools his face with practiced carefulness. His toes feel cramped and belt heavy and neck stiff because every crick in his posture becomes ten times more noticeable to himself when he tries to keep his cool in front of Keith. A thin glare of sunlight blinks away when Keith moves closer, stepping underneath a blood orange, feathery halo of dusty clouds around a gleaming frame. The position lands just a hair on the line of Lance’s personal space. Disappointing camera be damned, it’s an image that he’s not ready to be stowed away just yet. He carefully takes out his phone and lifts it just so in front of Keith’s now puzzled expression, like the other is unaware of just how breathtaking a scene he’s found himself a part of.

‘The sunset is pretty,’ he explains briefly after snapping a photo. The comment narrowly avoids his idea of _“you’re pretty”_. Instead, he lifts his free hand up to gesture to his own face: ‘Smile, Keith.’

Keith does. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of Lance’s jean jacket and looks at Lance instead, who hides his blushing face behind the camera to take another picture. It’s so sweet his teeth could rot, which isn’t very ideal considering how long he’s had to wear those godforsaken braces until his senior year of high school. Embarrassing. Good thing Keith met him during his prime, pearly white era.

‘Cute,’ he lets himself sign while his eyes are busy looking at the photos and not hyper-analyzing Keith’s reaction to this compliment.

Apparently, Lance wouldn’t have to look though, because his reaction is shown in the arm that wraps around Lance’s side and draws him in by the hip. His bones feel like they’re vibrating with cartoonish excitement like an episode of _Tom and Jerry_ , and Keith’s loose hair tickles his ears as they both look down at the glaringly bright screen. ‘Your turn,’ he sees Keith’s hand sign next to his phone, and it gives himself an excuse to jump back a little to regain the composure of a normal human being’s heartbeat. ‘No no no no.’ He shakes his head reluctantly.

Right as Keith looks about ready to snatch Lance up (he wouldn’t be opposed to that) and return the favor, the phone in his grip begins to vibrate and ring, displaying Pidge’s contact. _Saved by the bell, heh._ Lance shows it to Keith with a cocky smirk before answering it. “Hello?”

Keith huffs and turns back to unplug his phone from inside the truck. “Yo,” Pidge greets, “We just pulled in. Keith wasn’t answering our texts so tell him we’re all meeting at the front.”

“Alright—“

“Wait he’s with you right?” Pidge checks. Indeed he is, slamming the truck door shut and making his way to Lance with something folded up in his arms. ‘You can borrow this,’ he signs and hands it over with a thoughtful expression.

Lance smiles and refuses to point out how they could’ve just switched back into their own things before heading into the theater. He takes the familiar sweatshirt with his free hand. The only other time he’s worn this was after arriving absolutely soaked and frozen-stiff to the group’s movie night about a week ago. The memory of how hellish that thunderstorm was runs a shiver down his spine. His memory of Keith offering the sweatshirt does the same, albeit pleasantly. “Yeah we got here at the same time.”

“Alright, see ya” Pidge says obliviously.

“See ya,” he says back and pockets his phone after ending the call.

Keith looks at him expectantly as he brushes a fingertip up his own chest: ‘What’s up?’ He must’ve not checked his phone.

‘They’re here. We’re meeting at the entrance.’ The grey sweatshirt fits him comfortably when he throws it on. In the space where Keith’s chest would fill the front, his own broad shoulders do the same and it’s like the material is whispering _“Steal me, Lance. I smell like aftershave and hooome.”_

‘I’m stealing this,’ Lance exposes the temptation; he earns a deadpan in return.

He decides to ignore the look. Instead, lifts his arms like a proud bird flaring its wings, except this sight isn’t nearly as majestic. ‘How do I look?’

 _Good_ , Keith’s expression seems to say, because it’s tinged with pink that doesn’t belong to the blushing sunset and his eyes take a while to finally blink and return to Lance’s waiting stare. His supposed interest pauses for a moment, only to sign with a mocking face: ‘Terrible.’

Lance scoffs, knowing his offense can be read just as clearly without hearing the sound. He jabs at the other’s arm. ‘Asshole.’ Now he knows how he must’ve looked like in the restaurant. 

They make their way to the theater’s entrance, but not before Keith stops him to finally take a couple of his own pictures where Lance grumpily crosses his arms and wears a reluctant face that fades away by the second photo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The error Lance made in the beginning was based off my confusion in class when we were practicing interpreting lol
> 
> find me on [tumblr](https://knockoffery.tumblr.com/), where i post oneshots
> 
> and [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/glockery/), which i basically use as a sketch dump


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance continues to comb through loose strands and tuck them behind his ear. Keith doesn’t mind. He leans into it with a pleased sigh and turns into a puddle from those barely-there, featherlight touches. Lance could kiss him there if he wanted, but instead they gaze at one another with the shell of a romantic stare, and Lance wets his lips before pinching a joint between them and taking a lustful drag.
> 
> Shotgun shotgun shotgun—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been waiting to finish this chapter so I can get to all my other ideas for this fic :)) Enjoy y’all
> 
> there’s some weed in this but it’s p brief,, i’ll probably be writing more of it in the future tho so heads up

Keith hadn’t known that flirting with Lance would lead to a tactile affection he wasn’t exactly _used to_ , but here he is, sitting at the foot of the couch with fingers running through his hair that aren’t his own.

It feels like something he should’ve expected underneath it all, but given how easily timid Lance can be when people reciprocate his flattery, Keith didn’t find it all that hard to first think this was something to wait for. The boy is pretty ballsy when it comes to throwing out whatever half-assed pickup line to a good-looking person just for a reaction. But actually sticking to it? He would find Lance’s blushing cheeks laughable if it wasn’t such a nice look on him.

‘You look like your mom,’ Pidge signs from the seat across from them. They cradle a package of oreos with care, and it’s already nearly halfway finished since they first tore it open about 20 minutes ago, but there’s no stopping them when they’re high. Keith isn’t sure if they even meant to tell him that or the comment was just a passing thought their hands happened to cling to.

The fingers in his hair falter for a moment and one hand slips away, letting a small section gently fall limp. He watches as Pidge looks past him, their red and ghostly eyes narrowed in attention. An oreo still hangs loosely between their lips when they turn back to him and sign ‘Lance asked what she looks like, do you have a picture?’

He would nod but that would only earn him a pointed nudge considering Lance’s efforts. So instead he holds a hand up and waggles his fingers, ‘Hold on,’ before unlocking his phone and sifting through the photo gallery. There aren’t many recent ones, honestly, and most of them show half her face at a terribly high angle with her garden stretched across the background. He knows they’re meant to be updates on whatever new plants she's trying to grow back home with his stepdad, but the comically focused expression she wears never fails to tempt him into an amused smile. Usually the responses he gives are ‘Looks very nice,’ and in return he gets ‘Thank you. It took a lot of 💪.’

The most decent ones he can find are from his farewell right before moving down south where Adam and Shiro were already residing. They’re both stood at the front door under the afternoon sun, his stepdad snapping a picture once his mom urged the phone into his hands. Her skin glows a beautiful brown, something his pale self only barely inherits after hours under the sun, and that’s after the burn takes a long while to dull down. She’s got a long braid tossed over her shoulder but her choppy bangs still hang at the front. A warm smile lifts the apples of her cheeks, and she’s got Keith tugged close with her chin leveled at his shoulder. She’s considerably tall, as well as his birth father, so after toughing through puberty as a short teen, the struggle paid off when he’d finally shot up a good few inches in just a couple years. Lance likes to pull him down by the shoulders just to change the inch he’s got on him to ten because he’s just that petty.

He turns slightly to pass the phone back to Lance sitting on the couch behind him, and watches calmly as the other scans it with interest. Lance’s eyes widen a fraction for a second, a reaction Keith usually gets when people noticed the contrast in skin tone. ‘She’s Native American,’ He readily explains when Lance looks back to him. Instead of responding, he gets a small nod in return and the phone is lifted up next to his face for similarity. It’s kind of amusing, considering how Keith is already in the picture. Their resemblance is clearly proven in the face too, where they share the same sloped nose, narrow eyes, pointed chin, and even a slightly crooked tooth. Lance smiles and hands it back over, ‘She’s beautiful.’

And she is, to Keith and almost everyone else they know. He’s glad to look so much like her, partly because of the strong bond they share, and partly because his father wasn’t the friendliest person he’d known. To put it shortly, in his early childhood the man had gradually become more entitled and short-tempered, and his mom took several blows to her dignity as time carried on. Her deafness become less of something to celebrate, and instead, a burden to deal with in his father’s eyes. She taught Keith otherwise though, taught him sign language, guided him through their shared culture, and kissed any typical kiddish injuries he’d get overtime. It was how he was reassured it’s not his fault he was more prone to accidents while still learning; it was how he’d gotten his name sign.

Lance ties off the end of his second braid that stretched back along another at his part. He taps him gently before tugging him back up to couch while Keith tentatively touches the snug pattern. Instead of halting his ministrations, Lance continues to comb through loose strands and tuck them behind his ear. Keith doesn’t mind. He leans into it with a pleased sigh and turns into a puddle from those barely-there, featherlight touches. Lance could kiss him there if he wanted, but instead they gaze at one another with the shell of a romantic stare, and Lance wets his lips before pinching a joint between them and taking a lustful drag.

_Shotgun shotgun shotgun—_

The smoke curls past Lance’s mouth and creates a heavy cloud between them, like steam wafting out of a piping hot shower. He swallows, glances over to where Pidge is now watching something on their phone while clutching it over their face; it’ll probably fall down and smack them in the nose anyway. At least they’re not watching him and Lance share some subtle, erotic cliche only a few feet from where they’re sprawled across the recliner. Lance twirls the joint and holds it forward, coaxing his lips apart with it’s dull end to watch as Keith takes a drag without bothering to lift up his own hand and hold it himself. It’s just now that he recognizes Lance is still dwindling the ends of his hair between his fingers, and it creates a tickling sensation that Keith isn’t sober enough to flinch from, but he shudders at nonetheless.

He’d pay Pidge to leave if the deed wasn’t that obvious.

But instead, Lance’s brows jump cockily and he gives Keith’s shoulder a squeeze, lets him take hold of the joint, and hefts himself off the couch to make his way over to the door, where Hunk and Allura had just arrived with dinner. He hadn’t even noticed they arrived, and it probably has little to do with being deaf and more to do with how unfairly confident Lance gets when he’s high.

Keith decides then that he loves Lance’s blue eyes, but the red tinge looks just as good.

————

When Lance turns around and sees Keith standing on the other side of the counter, he looks about ready to fly straight through the ceiling with how hard he flinched. He clutches his heart and his head shakes disapprovingly. ‘You scared me!’

Keith only smiles, the short hiccup of laughter along with it rumbles deep in his chest. He’s been told before that he can be a pretty sneaky person without really trying, and it has little to do with being deaf and more to do with his fluid movements being not only limited to sign. Hunk, on the other hand, leaves a whole flurry of clumsiness in his wake that may as well jumpstart a giant neon sign announcing _“I have arrived!”_ . Not that it’s bothered him though, the only time he’s ever really subjected to those disturbances is hearing, or more like feeling, the pots and pans clanging against one another while his friend bustles around the kitchen. The sounds are so low and so _faint_ that they only ever manage to ring minutely, stirring through long forgotten and unused parts of his mind before they eventually dwindle away and are left unacknowledged.

Lance complains about it all the time though, hence, why he tends to wear earplugs even outside _The Lion’s Den_ . _‘As long as I get my food,’_ he had once pointedly signed to Hunk, who dismissively waved him off with an attitude and left him to bother Keith instead.

Lance doesn’t bother him though. Well, he does when he only wants to tease him when they’re _high_ and _people are around_. It’s been a little over a week since their little one on one hangout where Keith left with a kiss that made his lips tingle for the rest of the night. And now that Lance has been insisting he visit him at work, Keith wants to believe this better be worth it. (It always is, even just catching a glimpse of him).

‘Sorry,’ he replies before lifting a hand in a half-assed surrender. Lance curls his lip and shakes his head, continuing to ring up each book from the pile scattered across his desk. Each barcode flashes red for a brief second before the book is set aside. He looks good, the dark blue library uniform fits his broad shoulders nicely and the studs on his ears sparkle under fluorescent lights. Keith can admit he’s a little biased though, because even when Lance has arrived to one of their group hangouts last week, sopping wet and disheveled from the storm outside, the sight of him still sent a lightning bolt down Keith’s spine and rendered him still for a good moment or two. It was the only time he’d seen Lance’s hair curl up naturally into a thin wiry crown, mostly by his ears and along his hairline. He’s tempted to dump a bucket of water on Lance just to see it like that again. 

‘Can I help?’ he asks after getting Lance’s attention with a small wave.

Lance’s lips buzz while pinching fingers respond simply, then get back to working on their next task in typing away at the computer. It’s his frustrating way of saying ‘No, I got this.’ Keith just stands back and waits though, watching as the gears turn in the other’s mind before a decision seems to be made and Lance adds ‘Just sit here and look pretty’ with a smug smile.

If the clearness of his eyes and controlled stance is anything to go by, it seems Lance is, in fact, sober and ready to not be a little shit. So he rounds the counter and plops down in the office chair at the other’s side, which provokes a stalled reaction; he probably hadn’t been expecting Keith to take it so literally. But who is he to give up an opportunity to get a bit closer? Lance fights a losing battle against his blush and it makes his attitude all the more amusing when he tries to continue his work. 

People swim to and from the desk but pay little mind to his accompanying presence as Lance assists them. They’d developed a comfortable pace since becoming friends, but given their recent interactions, Keith is itching for more. He can mind his business, resting his head on his crossed arms while Lance continues minding his own business, looking really attractive and whatever else he’s got on his plate… It’s nice, to say the least, and Keith feels like the lithe, tan fingers that occasionally graze his arm may be doing so on purpose.

It’s when his eyelids start to droop and thoughts turn a little lazy and muddled, that he feels fingertips tickling his forehead to push his bangs away. He hums and relishes in the contact more intently than he had the chance to before. ‘Cute,’ Lance signs as if the comment wouldn’t leave Keith’s heart tripping over itself. Whew, okay, they’re doing this. Flirting. Openly, now.

Keith brings a hand to Lance’s, which stills, light against his ear. He can feel his body pulsing with nervousness while his mind tosses different ways of approaching this. He finally settles on straight up impulsively asking ‘Wanna go on a date?’ even though he was _supposed_ to be sticking with their little back and forth. But Lance is the kind of person that makes him want to skip all the steps and just jump right into the whole boyfriends shebang. The kind of person that makes him stare up thoughtfully with extremely last minute doubts of _“Goddammit I read this all wrong what was I thinking Lance is just a friendly dude and maybe he wasn’t being serious when he made all those subtly bisexual jokes—“_

Lance licks his lips nervously before nodding with a smile, his hand wobbling in Keith’s grasp with matching energy. Or maybe it’s Keith’s hand. Who cares? He’s still processing this and wondering how much faster this could’ve gone down if he’d known it’d be this easy ahead of time. 

“What?” Lance asks, judging by the way his mouth moves and angular brows furrow. Keith sits up and turns the chair in that direction curiously, only to be met with the sight of Pidge, who ends their lewd gesturing a little too late and quickly strides down one of the aisles as if nothing had ever happened. Lance says something, then tries throwing a bookmark at them but it only sweeps directly upward before fluttering to the ground like a poorly made paper airplane.

‘Asshole,’ Lance signs with a flick of his wrist and disgruntled expression. Keith ignores it and instead asks ‘When does your shift end?’ Letting Lance’s hand fall limp in order to sign kind of sucked, but the fond smile he gets in return makes him feel just as content.

‘7 o’clock,’ Lance responds with his thumb and ring finger pinched together.

Only an hour or so, Keith calculates. He lets himself sigh, then tangles their hands back together —because of course he can’t last like two seconds without this guy already— and scoots to the edge of his seat, closer to Lance. It feels almost natural, how he leans in too and let’s his eyes flicker over Keith’s face with a hint of shyness.

His gaze latches onto movement from below and finds Lance’s mouth forming a stream of words. His brows furrow, lip reading isn’t one of his specialities so he can only look back to the other’s stare in confusion. ‘What?’ he questions with a sweep of his hand. Lance smiles even more, which probably shouldn’t be possible because his eyes are crinkled tightly and striking white are teeth bared as he says the words once more, but with a hand up to clarify.

‘Can I kiss you?’

Oh. _Oh_ . Keith would definitely respond with something along the lines of _‘Um, fuck yes’_ but he only nods steadily to avoid wasting any time before Lance confidently leans forward and closes what little space was left between them.

At the sweet taste of Lance’s lips, Keith vaguely recalls watching Lance work from his seat earlier, even more intently as he’d applied a thin coat of chapstick. Had Lance been planning this? Was he _preparing_? God even if he wasn’t the image made his gut stir pleasantly and had him stacking their lips with renewed vigor. There was an underlying kind of familiarity to this, not unlike their currently clasped hands, that had him pushing for more. He angles his head just slightly in a way that makes Lance’s breath tickle from where his nose prods against Keith’s cheek, and library residents be damned; he’s wanted this for a long fucking while now. Not even since that Friday.

_‘Maybe we can finally be friends too…’_ Yeah, Lance probably didn’t know that him _not_ being an asshole to Keith was all it took to develop a crush on him. He has too much power.

He can only inch the closer with one last tug to Lance’s swift mouth before the moment is cut short by an uneasy student hovering awkwardly at the desk. Alright so maybe Keith doesn’t care for most of the people here, but he probably should if it means Lance keeping his job… But watching him running a hand through his hair and keep his head ducked in embarrassment is pretty endearing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/knockoffery)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s never done anything wrong, per say, the mood is just unpredictable. There’s a lot to Lance he wants to uncover, so he rides along with his enigmatic energy for now with the distant hope that maybe Lance will just tell him what’s going on, instead of kissing him with what feels like a secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It totally slipped my mind that the last chapter was from Keith’s pov when I started this one so enjoy another :)

If there’s anything Keith has learned about Lance in the past week, it's that he likes being _smothered_. And it’s not like Keith can’t provide because behind closed doors, he’s become the clingiest person known to man. Lance’s hand is like an anchor that keeps him from floating past cloud nine, and it remains in his grasp even when his palms turn sweaty and his other hand starts fidgeting with his own belt loops. Belt loops that Lance likes to tug, his lips curled in the same way his fingers hook, then pull Keith onto him and snatch the air right out his lungs. It’s the third time he’s been dragged over since Lance initially flopped onto his bed not even twenty minutes ago, as if he’d done it a thousand times before. It’s the third time he probably should’ve seen it coming.

The wii remote gets wedged uncomfortably between their ribs once Lance manages to dig his heel into the back of Keith’s thigh and pull with a certain strength only a swimmer like him can muster.

Keith rolls his eyes, plants a firm kiss to the corner of that smug mouth for good measure before sitting up. ‘I thought you wanted me to fix this,’ He signs after ducking back from the other’s grabby hands. It immediately flips on the boy’s huffy reflex Keith has come to know as distinctly _Lance_ in a way he can’t quite explain. He conveys so many exact expressions that all of them collectively could make up an entire “Lance: Diva-to-Downer” encyclopedia. Keeping track of them is like trying to snap pictures, frame by frame, of a fan’s blades spinning at its highest level.

Keith lives with a video setting though, so he has no time to take notes and instead he takes his best shot at not driving Lance up the wall.

When he glances up from the fumbling mess in his hands, Lance watches with a miffed pout. Slots of sunlight cut through the gaps in his window’s open blinds, creating a sweet honeyed yellow near the center of Lance’s eyes. They level one another with a look, one that Keith can’t exactly keep up for long because he’s gradually forgetting what the initial problem was when the image of Lance laying in his _bed_ is now a striking reality.

‘I wanna kiss you,’ Lance bunches his fingers together and pecks Keith’s cheek with them.

The statement has Keith drowning in a whirlpool of _I’m not used to this_ , but also _This is something I could get used to_. He’s not sure what’s considered moving too fast or unnecessary stalling. Besides, it was he who made that first move, and Lance followed with enthusiasm like a partner in crime. If there’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s that going out with Lance won’t curb their usual antics.

He can tell Lance is a little more strained though, in a way that makes him prone to clumsiness around those who peak his interest, it’s as if his motor skills and attraction fall hand in hand. He’d once overfilled his glass of water from the fridge’s dispenser while watching Keith, who was stretching to sift through a cabinet nearby and fight the ache in his arm, thanks to a gym visit the day prior. But his effort had stopped short at the feel of water lightly spraying across his bare feet after ricocheting off the tile floor. Lance came to his senses so abruptly that the water in his glass sloshed over its rim and spilled to an already waiting puddle on the floor, leaving him twitching with a burning neck. Keith isn’t an idiot though, he put two and two together when Lance’s explanation of _‘Just out of it today’_ was less than convincing. Needless to say, the moment was taken in stride and tank tops have been Keith’s work getup more often now.

Lance grips at his arms shamelessly, but it betrays his pleading look while he waits for such a small favor of consent. Seriously, he could kiss Keith to the ends of the earth and the only thing Keith could think to complain about is taking a breath before diving back in.

But he knows Lance. And even though Lance may want a kiss and the whole of Keith’s attention _now_ , he’ll probably ask _‘Did you fix the remote yet?’_ a moment later because _his_ attention span is quite short-lived.

He gives Lance another kiss, the pair of lips he feels underneath his own still smooth as ever, then plops down at Lance’s side to turn his attention back to that damned wii remote.

It’s no use, though. Lance turns on his side and smoothes a hand across Keith’s torso like a cat preening in its own lazy space. Keith is his space, and from that he gets insistently swatted on the pec before Lance noses at his shoulder, pressing modest kisses across his skin that grow hotter when they slide across his collarbone.

Keith lifts his arms slightly in defiance; it’s a subtle challenge that gets Lance stirring from where he smothers past his personal bubble. The remote works by now, thankfully just needing the batteries switched and a good whack against his palm. He’s not sure if the Wii makes a noise when it connects, because all he’s familiar with is brief flashing blue lights at the bottom before finally beaming with life. Though if the system does make any sound, Lance doesn’t falter his efforts, if anything he’s more eager.

The most they’ve ever done is make out since their first date a little over a week ago, started with Keith admitting ‘I didn’t really plan this far ahead’, and ended with the two of them scarfing down Wendy’s under the stars in his truck bed. Kinda romantic, and pretty much their best at being appropriate. You can’t exactly get much poetry out of two dense guys like them on a date without a miles worth of patience. Lance jabbed at him for ‘eating like a cow’ at one moment, but seemed to absolutely _howl_ when Keith’s reply was a grunted _“moo”_. It’s the most you’ll get out of him regarding speech, he favors his own language by far. But Lance inhaled a chunk of fries on accident with how sudden his reaction had been, so it was worth it.

Lance’s teeth bite his skin at the juncture between collarbone and throat. It’s his little push back to Keith’s game, and when Keith keeps his attention elsewhere Lance lavs his tongue over the spot, kisses it for good measure and tugs at his arm.

He leans back on his heels for a moment, processes Keith’s pointed (and faked) nonchalance while looking at the NASA poster pinned to the wall, then rolls his eyes and lands his attack. Right at the base of his throat, a mirror to his last kiss. It doesn’t blossom the bruising pain and distaste Keith’s experienced from hickeys before. Weirdly enough, Lance latches tighter with time, almost eases into the whole thing just to revel in the moment.

He feels his skin grow wet and flush, it spurs a suppressed groan from the core of his chest before Lance finally pulls away. His fingers unfurl from where they’d been tangled in Keith’s hair before, which hadn’t been noticed until now. ‘How was that?’ He smiles proudly.

Keith is a little shit though, he drags on his act a little longer and shrugs his shoulders, turning his head to look all around the room. Lance scoffs and swats his thigh, then holds on to Keith’s jaw. ‘Look at me,’ he signs sincerely. ‘You’re an asshole.’

‘Thank you!’ Keith smiles sweetly and feels his eyes crinkle a little from the overly-politeness.

‘No.’

‘Yes.’

Lance throw his frustration into affection and pushes at Keith’s side before heaving him back and twining their hands together. It’s shy, a complete opposite of his charm earlier and the change in demeanor never fails to confuse Keith. He sits up and wraps his arms around the other’s unnecessarily broad shoulders to drag them back against the pillows together.

 _ILY_ , he presses each finger into Lance’s thigh that’s slung across his own legs. It’s a familial gesture, and hopefully another thing he could grow used to, especially once Lance returns the press to his arm and kisses his cheek.

————

‘Hey, can you hand over…’ Shiro falters from where he’s hovering over Keith. His jaw turns slack and hangs open before his mouth tugs delightfully through a weak laugh. It’s too late for Keith to understand his brother’s sudden epiphany, because Shiro smacks hand over his own neck then vigorously points to Keith. ‘You’ve got a little something there, R-O-M-E-O.’

It takes a good three seconds before Keith is finally reeling from that lust-soaked memory, where Lance apparently didn’t give a shit about the embarrassment he'd eventually face when his hickey is noticed by _Shiro_ of all people. A blush seeps up his neck and across the curve of his cheeks, leaving him sputtering from his place on the roller seat. The car above his bottom half suddenly feels like a protective blanket, and he’s tempted to hide underneath until Shiro drags him out by the ankle.

His ankle stays untouched though, because Shiro’s impatience doesn’t bother sparing time for explanation, and rather he waves off the inquiring with an amused smile. ‘You can tell me later.’ It makes the whole thing even _worse_ because now Keith has until dinner to toss and turn over what an exceptional answer would be. Of course, he’s got the honest intention of becoming Lance’s… _boyfriend_ , but he’s not too keen on the idea of Shiro knowing before Lance himself does.

But Shiro finds cunning joy in letting Keith squirm; it shows in the skip of his step while he rounds the corner. Keith dreadfully drags his hands down underneath his eyes and groans. Then has half a mind to realize he just got _grease_ wiped across his sweaty face. 

And since he’s recently found himself pulled into the whole “cupcake phase” (still getting to know each other, blah blah), he’s now aware that even being the subject of Lance’s affection doesn’t keep himself from getting bullied into washing his face all the damn time. Okay, not _all_ the time, but it was enough pestering for Keith to absentmindedly reach for cleansing soap during his morning grogginess. No doubt will Lance be pouncing at any remaining smudge when Keith shows up for their promised ride on his motorcycle tonight.

Lance’s habits can be frustrating, but also very endearing. Because Lance’s pointy nose scrunches when he’s peeved, and he tugs Keith closer just to contradict that; and he wears Keith’s clothes like he’s entitled to, and he’s basically nailed himself into Keith’s life by now, which should be a terrifying move, but instead it makes Keith turn to putty and accept the attention he hadn’t allowed before.

It’s overwhelming. Any way he can describe the sweet dread Lance makes him experience is just another way to describe Lance himself. The constant back and forth of it has just become a muddled list of oxymorons. He’s subjected to pouts before fluttering kisses, and excited exclamations before Lance seems to hit a dead end and just _stops_ . He’s apologized a lot for it, like an afterthought of this whirling behavior. The _‘Sorry I’m all over today’_ s leave Keith more confused than whatever sense of aggravation the other may expect.

He’s never done anything _wrong_ , per say, the mood is just unpredictable. There’s a lot to Lance he wants to uncover, so he rides along with his enigmatic energy for now with the distant hope that maybe Lance will just tell him what’s going on, instead of kissing him with what feels like a secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/knockoffery)
> 
> and this is where i let the projection begin 🤩🤩 will be expanding on Lance’s situation more later on
> 
> so sorry to those of you who may have been waiting for an update, i’ve been working to keep my grades up since the new semester began so please forgive me :’)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Hawaiiii,’ Keith repeats and cranes his neck forward, smiling through the last of it just to milk the small mistake.
> 
> ‘Okay! Good looking! I’m so sorry, please forgive me!’
> 
> Keith only stalls and looks upward, toward the smooth paint across the ceiling as if it sparks the most interest he can muster. ‘Maybe,’ he turns his hand and continues looking aside thoughtfully. 
> 
> Lance reaches up to grab his jaw before turning Keith’s face in his direction. For a moment he’s satisfied, Keith returns a smothering kiss and roams down Lance’s side with sureness in his palms, handling Lance’s narrow hips intently before suddenly diving down and—
> 
> “AGH!”
> 
> —flinging Lance’s entire body over one shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo sorry for the wait and this chapter’s shortness. I’ve been dealing with some personal stuff so hopefully y’all don’t mind!

Before, the thought of someone looking at Lance as if he put the stars in the sky wasn’t one he’d been keen on becoming familiar with. It still isn’t.

Keith doesn’t look at him like that.

No, Keith looks at him like he’s about to laugh, because he’d just witnessed Lance _accidentally_ knock a couple cheese cubes into Hunk’s soup on accident, then watched the shock on his own face slowly morph into humor when they locked eyes. And no it’s not _that_ big of a deal, but anything shared between them this way is funny because Keith looks at him like they’re always in on the same inside joke. When it’s level ground like this, it feels good to become the partner of a guy he’d been jealous of for so long.

Hunk turns back to the stove and stirs through the pot with a sense of professionalism Lance can’t quite understand. So his mind doesn’t dwell on it too long, instead it replays the moment a couple bubbles surfaced and popped when the cheese sunk in. It’s not even that funny, but Keith’s apprehension and amusement unfurling has him stubbornly trying to stifle laughter in the wake of a suspicious gaze Hunk will surely send his way when catching sight of them.

Hunk is like a living lie detector, there’s nothing Lance can’t hide from his friend. What’s lost in the tone he’d use with his voice is sensed in the wariness of his signing, so there’s no point in beating around the bush when he’s caught stumbling to begin with.

Lance draws the collar of his sweatshirt up, or at least _Keith’s_ sweatshirt, which still holds the distinct smell of another home he can’t exactly describe. The others have yet to notice their constant swapping in wardrobe, though it’s obvious to himself aside from the fact that he’s there to see Keith in the act of changing. With all that jealousy-provoking, six pack glory he manages… It’s obvious because if he believed Keith looked good before in his clothes respectively, then switching it up with attire more fashionable is a whole new, equally as compelling, look. It’s all thanks to his little brother Brian, the eleven year-old has changed Lance’s sense of style for the better somehow.

When Keith met Brian, Lance had the great opportunity of seeing blatant confusion and surprise cross his boyfriend’s face. _‘He’s adopted,’_ Lance explained when it was made clear Keith had registered his brother’s darker skin and equally dark, doe-like eyes. Brian doesn’t pointedly jab at him for it though, he’s just as straightforward. But Jaden, the more mischievous twin, would’ve tried rolling along with his usual stunt of _‘Yeah,_ Lance _is adopted!’_ the little jerk…

‘I’m kicking you two out,’ Hunk announces without even sparing a glance before. He just tossed a gratuitous amount of diced onion into the pot before confidently sending them away. They don’t bother making a fuss, and Keith has half a mind to duck his head in shame when they make their way to the living room of the apartment.

‘Idiot,’ Keith signs once they round the corner and Lance pulls away after placing a fresh kiss to his neck. Lance draws a hand to his mouth, scoffing at Keith’s dig before letting his smirk surface past his offense and pull one.. two.. three more kisses out of him.

‘Hunk is here,’ Keith manages to sign in the crowded space between Lance and the wall he stands against.

‘But I can hear him, he’s still in the kitchen!’ Lance responds and raises his brows to plea. ‘And you’re so handsome,’ he adds, just to see the faint blush he tends to only provoke when they’re alone.

Keith’s lids lower and he looks at Lance in challenging amusement. ‘Hawaii,’ he mimics the previous sign.

‘Shut up, I’m lazy.’ Sure that version of “handsome” is tossed aside since Hawaii is basically the same. Keith should get the message when Lance’s attention is on him like this. But—

‘Hawaiiii,’ Keith repeats and cranes his neck forward, smiling through the last of it just to milk the small mistake.

‘Okay! Good looking! I’m so sorry, _please_ forgive me!’

Keith only stalls and looks upward, toward the smooth paint across the ceiling as if it sparks the most interest he can muster. ‘Maybe,’ he turns his hand and continues looking aside thoughtfully. 

Lance reaches up to grab his jaw before turning Keith’s face in his direction. For a moment he’s satisfied, Keith returns a smothering kiss and roams down Lance’s side with sureness in his palms, handling Lance’s narrow hips intently before suddenly diving down and—

“AGH!”

—flinging Lance’s entire body over one shoulder.

“Keith!” He shouts more out of shock than actually trying to get his message across. Keith struggles only slightly against his squirming and continues on his way to the living room, to the wide entrance to the kitchen where Hunk watches with mild shock.

Lance shoots his friend a sheepish smile, swatting Keith’s behind for good measure just to prove any hostility is gone and Hunk doesn’t have to worry too much like their rivaling days. Keith jerks to the side, either as a reaction or just to jostle Lance, he’s not entirely sure. But it’s not quite something to be concerned about because Lance faces a new challenge in the suggestive look Hunk sends his way after his sudden surprise. It’s the kind Lance sees when his friends tend to silently tease; the kind he gets before blushing in frustration because he knows he’ll be getting pulled aside later about a potential _crush_.

Funnily enough, this time it isn’t just a crush, and maybe he’s a little okay with the idea of Hunk only seeing it that way, just to ease into the whole _“yeah he’s actually my boyfriend now”_ . Because every day that goes by unannounced is another shake of his shoulders he’ll surely get once Hunk furiously exclaims _‘Why didn’t you tell me?!’_

But for now, he can only shake his head as a mild warning, or more like a desperate plea equivalent to _‘Please not right now’_ . And Hunk relents, raising his eyebrows and letting one last knowing smile bleed past the nonchalance he puts up terribly as if it’s something to keep from Keith. At least it’s that way in Hunk’s eyes, during the dense phase where he tends to go through of _‘We’re just friends!’_ to deny any flirty antics.

Keith swerves to face the kitchen, leaving Lance to stare defeatedly at the living room carpet where the kitchen tiling ends. Keith jumps a little, wrapping his arm around to heft Lance’s legs together in one grip while the other hand is free to sign. Sign what? Lance isn’t sure, partly because the blood rushing to face speeds up a little at the feel of Keith’s terribly thick muscle over the curve of Lance’s thigh. He feels absolutely conflicted in what daydream it provokes first: the one of him in a suffocating bubble of _Keith Keith Keith_ that smells of the same musk he’s come across with the tip of his nose pressed against the small of his boyfriend's back, _or_ the one where he doesn’t get familiar with Keith’s scent from a T-shirt alone cause they’re clothes are flung across the room and _oh hell yeah baby—_

He counts the tiles within his peripheral vision because _oh hell no baby_ will he _not_ be popping any semi’s today— or at least right now.

Okay yeah yeah they actually haven’t gotten quite _far_ sexually yet because the last time Lance got whiplash so hard from the sudden sensation of a hand crawling up his shirt that his moan turned into a whole coughing frenzy , and unfortunately it drove them apart for a minute or so. He feels guilty getting carried away with this whole sense of imagination between them when really it’s _hard_ letting someone just— just—

touch you. Yeah, call him a pussy or whatever but feeling hands in places that aren’t typically _touched_ quite often have his heart spasming like no tomorrow. And it’s not just from the dangerously euphoric high of beginning to get intimate with Keith, it’s also from a more personal anxiety that’s rooted into his core. There’s places he can only draw the line at, and a scar that runs etched along the space near his navel from a kidney transplant is one of them.

He feels bad, too. It’s not like he can really just turn off the reflex either. But Keith’s eyes only stayed on his own throughout the entire explanation, didn’t creep down to where the tail end of raised skin peeks out past the hem of his shirt, and Lance has gained more respect for him just from that. From not getting too curious, or worse, try to dismiss Lance’s discomfort with _‘it’s not that bad’_ when it’s still a boundary for _him_. And believe it or not he’s gotten that before. So Keith concentrates on just that for the sake of boundaries they’re beginning to make along the way. ‘Don’t touch Lance’s scar’ is just another part of the list in which ‘don’t creep up on Keith’ also lies.

Lance doesn’t quite understand that part though. It’s really fucking strange because Keith will just turn around from whatever project he’s working on right at the moment Lance is coming his way. It’s like the scenes in the movies where the villain turns around and strokes a fluffy cat in their lap just to add that sense of mischief. But this time, it’s just Keith curiously turning his way with wide and acknowledging eyes, crouched with a can of spray paint in his grasp. Then he’ll turn back to whatever new piece he’s working on in his little designated area at the edge of the shop’s garage like it’s nothing. It’s not nothing —Keith’s weird little habit as well as his art— both of which truly amaze Lance.

‘Are those new?’ He asks once they’re settled back at Keith’s place and curled away in the comfort of his bed. A few thick posters sit stacked against the wall next to a cluttered desk. Keith peers down past their bundle of blankets for a second before leaning back and nodding. ‘New C-O-M-M-I-S-S-I-O-N-S, one of our regulars at the shop saw me working on a different one and we worked out a deal.’

‘Niccce,’ Lance replies with a smooth glide of his palm. Keith smiles humorously and lifts his hand to card through the hair at the nape of Lance’s neck. God he needs a haircut, it’s be embarrassing if Keith actually cared at all. Which he doesn’t. Instead, he tugs Lance down until they’re nose to nose and his eyes almost completely shut from looking narrowly through the little space between them, where Lance’s mouth hangs a little loose because yeah, like before, he’s still getting used to the whole touchy stuff.

Keith juts his chin just slightly to catch Lance’s lip and slide it back out from the pinch of his teeth. There’s something about those canines and their slight crookedness that drive Lance wild with fondness and excitement. He pries Keith’s lips apart to slide his tongue deep, satisfied with the eagerness his boyfriend returns when mash together again in a crazed frenzy. The kind that Lance dreads to see on his college campus amongst shameless couples, but now he kind of gets it. He gets how the wetness of their lips is both disgusting and kind of hot at the same time.

“Mmmh,” he only manages to get out when those teeth poke the skin above the collar of his T-shirt and graze a fiery path to the space just past his jaw, sucking it wet before pulling off with a slight _pop!_ It’s good Shiro isn’t home either, else Lance would wish the man were deaf too cause the smack of lips is a distinguishable enough sound.

_“—Taste of your lips I’m on a riiide—“_ the speakers of his phone belt out unbeknownst to how weirdly coincidental his ringtone is at the moment.

_“—you’re toxic I’m—“_

Keith looks offended when Lance pulls away dizzily. His phone continues blaring, stuffed away somewhere on the expanse of the bed. ‘My phone,’ he quickly explains and leans back on his heels to tug the blanket back and search. Keith still seems slightly miffed, even once he manages to grab it out from where it’d been wedged between him and the mattress. _“—a poison paradi—“_

“Hello?”

“Lance, hey. Can you let Keith know I’ll be back late tonight?”

 _‘Shiro’s coming home late,’_ he signs to answer Keith’s questioning expression before responding. “Shiro— uh, yeah, I mean how did you know I was even here?”

“What, you mean did I know you guys were together _before_ or _after_ seeing you two cuddled up on the couch the other day taking a nice little nap?”

Lance is rendered speechless. He kinda forgot that had even happened. Keith had worked past his usual hours at the shop and Lance had just gotten an earful from his mother about his messy room. They both deserved a break, or at least that’s what he thought for Keith when he saw his droopy eyes and sagging shoulders the second he hopped in the truck.

“You also snore _quite_ loudly,” Shiro adds in the midst of Lance’s moment of silence. And fuck if that’s true, if his family members’ dreadful accounts of his slumber are anything to go by.

He zones back into reality, shifting himself more upright and smoothing the concerned crease between his brows he’s sure Keith has taken attention to. “Uh, yeah sorry ‘bout that,” He breathes out and Shiro only chuckles.

Well that’s one person down to know about he and Keith’s relationship. And considering how absolutely _gossipy_ Shiro is when it comes to what he’s overheard spilled to Adam in the kitchen, surely the latter knows by now. So that’s two. Two down and then the rest of their friends… and family… and coworkers… and—

_‘Is Shiro being an asshole again?’_ Keith asks after pushing himself up and back against the pillows. He twines their fingers together, rubbing his thumb along Lance’s and watching calmly. Lance smiles and shakes his head, because that’s all he can really do. “Koala Keith” can’t seem to stand a few seconds without that connection. Keith rolls his eyes like he knows better.

“Alright I’m gonna go, don’t have too much fun,” Shiro calls at the same time Keith ushers his free hand to the phone and signs ‘Hang up on him.’

“Okay, Keith says he loves you very much,” he takes his hand back to sign it to Keith, who only scoffs. “Hmph, he didn't,” Shiro replies.

“He really didn’t,” Lance agrees.

Keith drags Lance by the sleeve. ‘Hang _up._ ’

Two down… A lot more to go...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/knockoffery)
> 
> Might do another Lance chapter for the next one?? Fair warning, mental health will be touched on. Kinda my way of projecting lol anyway thank you to all of those reading my work I very much appreciate it :))


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Do you think Keith will care when I tell him I’m B-I-P-O-L-A-R?’ He asked Hunk after laying back more comfortably on the couch.
> 
> Hunk looks at him thoughtfully and heaves a long breath. ‘He’ll care, but not in a bad way,’ He supplies. ‘When I first met you, your personality was exciting— it still is! When you told me your situation, it didn’t change the person you are, I think things just made more sense.’
> 
> He hopes Hunk is right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter isn’t too out of character 😭 I’m trying my best to use their canon personalities as a reference but also give Lance and Keith their respective character arcs, so understand that anything that seems “off” is for the sake of the story
> 
> (possible) trigger warning: descriptions/references to depressive and manic episodes, nothing graphic though

If things went the way Lance wanted, the circumstances would be different. Much different— _better_ , in fact! But of course, the stable ground underneath him is actually a magic carpet that’s constantly yanked out from under his feet. He doesn’t know left from right or his ups and downs until it’s too late. And by too late, he means abruptly-storming-out-of-the-house too late.

It’s not the first time it’s happened, definitely not the last, and _of course_ will he return within a few hours after probably getting a text from his mother along the lines of _‘Dinner is ready if you want some. Please stay safe <3’. _ It makes his eyes slit angrily with frustrated tears because he _loves_ his family but by god is it hard living with seven other people.

His mom, his dad, Jaden, Brian, Zadia, Rachel, and Veronica.

Veronica, who just has to be an absolute _ass_ about literally everything. Okay not literally, but let him be dramatic for a second.

‘Can I tell you something?’ He’d asked his mom from where he sat at the kitchen table, empty plates and cups and stray silverware scattered across the surface. Veronica was still finishing her pancakes; he was halfway done.

His mom nodded with interest and continued rocking her hips to the music blaring from a set of speakers nearby. Music is always on when she cleans, and at the time she was loading the dishwasher. Sometimes he couldn’t tolerate it though, and signing over a whirlwind of sound made his senses overload with anxiety and frustration. ‘Can you turn it down?’ He asked and shifted nervously in his seat, glancing over to where Veronica watched him with curiosity.

His mother turned down the dial with dripping fingertips, but not before Veronica snarked, ‘So I’m not included with this?’

‘It’s private!’ He immediately responded. It’s _Keith_ more like, and he’d rather have the first reaction from a family member be encouraging than smug. He felt particularly more agitated today, like walking on eggshells to please _himself_ , and believe it or not, he’d done a pretty shit job even though it was only 10 A.M.

‘Then go stand over with Mom,’ his sister signed haughtily. It’s stupid and she knows it.

He growled, speaking at the same time he replied ‘Why does it matter?’

“Lance, are you okay? You seem a little upset today, mijo,” his mother asked. Her hands moved swiftly with each word unlike his stilted anger, and for some reason, him being asked _that_ along with Veronica having the chance to see him get possibly lectured by their mom felt so unfair.

Everything felt hot, burning under his angry touch and scampering in different directions when he jumped out of his seat with haste. “Why do you have to ask _me?_ Why do _I_ always end up being the problem maker in this house?” His voice rose but his mom didn’t falter.

‘And yes,’ He turned back to Veronica. ‘I _did_ take my medication.’

But she rolled her eyes disbelievingly and signed back, ‘Then take it again.’

It took all of his willpower not to slam a syrup-smeared plate on her sassy, pinched face and go “FUCK YOU!” No, he didn’t do that. But he _did_ do the—

“Fuck you!” He flipped her off with two long and knobby middle fingers only inches away from her face.

— part. He did that part and it wasn’t so good.

‘I’m sorry, Hunk’ He signs from his place in the living room. The coffee table’s edge digs into his chest when he leans over to take another bite of warm, delicious spaghetti his friend had made last night. He’s still bitter he hadn’t had a chance to finish his pancakes back home, but when one thing escalated to another, it’s better to put distance between him and the problem, than to revel in conflict.

Hunk only waves him off and sets down a glass of water beside Lance’s plate. ‘It’s fine, Lance. You’re always welcome to come over, but weed is kind of a hit or miss when you’re like this… I only put in a little, so I’m hoping it helps calm you down.’

And it has. The wonders of Hunk’s ongoing menu of food featuring a dash of cannabis has soothed any agitation he’s encountered in the past to some effective extent. He can already feel his brain melt with gratitude only a few bites in.

Hunk waves for his attention again. ‘Is Keith busy?’

‘Yeah, he’s working right now.’ Lance pauses for a second, then tests the waters. ‘Since we started dating, he hasn’t seen me M-A-N-I-C before.’

‘Dating?!’ Hunk asks excitedly and pushes himself off the couch cushions in favor of sitting straight at attention. ‘You two are together?’

Lance _meant_ for it to be a casual reveal, but he should’ve known Hunk is a sucker for details, almost as much as Allura is, so it was a given the news would have him at the edge of his seat— literally. ‘Yeah,’ he starts shyly, ‘Our first date was around two… three weeks ago. Something like that…’

‘Lance! You should’ve told me!’ Hunk starts with enthusiasm and frantic signing. ‘I told you before that you guys would be a cute couple but nooo, “Keith is my rival”, you idiot’

“Hey!” He says in offense and knows his friend will at least read his lips from that. ‘That was when we were fighting!’

Hunk’s lips buzz dismissively and he waves a hand. ‘Flirting, you mean.’

Lance can only choke out with stuttered hands, ‘When—?’ before Hunk’s phone flashes with a notification. The group chat’s name displayed across the screen is immediately recognized, so he only huffs and shakes away Hunk’s antics in favor of plucking his own phone out his pocket. It seems Keith and Pidge have caught themselves up in another banter session, paying no mind to their audience:

**Space Cowboys**

**Pidge:** bruh Keith’s name sign is just virgin backwards

 **Stupidface** ❤️ **:** 1\. That one is a nickname and 2. I can easily change yours

 **Pidge:** go ahead mister sneeze

 **Stupidface** ❤️ **:** Everyday I thank god I can’t hear you

 **Pidge:** keith: sneezing a certain way is from social pressure so technically i’m doing nothing wrong

also keith: aHAHAHAHAHAH

Lance will admit though, Keith’s sneeze has scared the shit out of him twice already. The first time he legitimately thought Kosmo had made the sound while he was turned away. Nope, just Keith scrunching his nose afterward and settling back on the couch as if he hadn’t impersonated someone with a breath of fire. It’s less of a “deaf sneeze” and more of a dad kind. Despite this though, Lance intervenes sweetly because the drizzle of weed in his food makes the edges of his brain fuzzy with affection.

**Space Cowboys**

i like keith’s laugh though :)

 **Pidge:** shutbup gay

shutbup

this bitch really just told me to shutbup

 **Stupidface ❤️:** Thank you Lance

 **Hunky:** did pidge know about this before me?

Lance shoots up from his seat on the floor and flops onto the couch groaning “Nooo” along the way. His hands drag down his face miserably and Hunk must’ve gotten the memo because he frantically goes ‘I’m sorry! I thought they knew!’

He settles himself though and downplays the whirling anxiousness spinning about his head like birds in a cartoon. They’ve discussed this before, he and Keith, and it seems like they’ve been on two ends of a spectrum. The spectrum being: ‘Let the entire world know about us!’ and ‘Why don’t we take it easy first?’ If it wasn’t made obvious already, he was the more excitable between them.

At first, he was embarrassed by his high spirits when Keith made it known he was wary of the change. It felt like a flick in the forehead, the hit was brief and sharp but the ache took longer to fade. His sudden assumption of Keith being ashamed of their relationship was proven otherwise after a long night of nothing but staying pressed and tangled together, blatantly ignoring the movie they had put on before. A lot of ILY’s pressed into his skin, and honestly even more than Lance initiates. Keith’s love is physical when their world is at peace.

‘It’s fine,’ Lance settles Hunk’s apologies. Even when a skeptical gaze is thrown his way, he turns back to his phone with nonchalance.

**Space Cowboys**

**Pidge:** know about what?

 **Stupidface ❤️:**?

 **Pidge:** if this is bout u guys dating then blame keith for keeping your dumbass as his lock screen

whAT

i’m getting whiplash from this

but did i look good

 **Stupidface ❤️:** Yes…

 **Pidge:** yes you whore

🥰 good to know we’re all on the same page

can’t wait for allura to come in here and scream 🤪

 **Pidge:** no one:

allura: O. M. G.

keith: aHAHAHAH

quit making fun of my man!

 **Stupidface ❤️:** 💙

 **Pidge** : i could fart right next to keith and he wouldn’t even know

 **Stupidface ❤️:** I could smell it you fucking asshole

Man he’s got some pretty great friends, huh? But right when he’s starting to feel better, the forgotten sting of his outburst earlier today returns, and he’s no longer got an appetite for even the most tasteful dish sitting in front of him.

‘Do you think Keith will care when I tell him I’m B-I-P-O-L-A-R?’ He asked Hunk after laying back more comfortably on the couch.

Hunk looks at him thoughtfully and heaves a long breath. ‘He’ll care, but not in a bad way,’ He supplies. ‘When I first met you, your personality was exciting— it still is! When you told me your situation, it didn’t change the person you are, I think things just made more sense.’

Lance nods along and takes a moment to soak in those words. He remembers last year being a constant yanking back and forth in terms of mood swings. He spent nearly a month coming home to lock himself in his room, oversleep, then watch movies until his eyes glazed over until the thought of _“Life doesn’t really matter”_ was accepted more and more by the hour. While he once loved the rain, the constant pouring outside turned into something he’d quickly gotten sick of. There was either nothing to do, or nothing he could make himself do. His puffy blue comforter was a shield to a world he didn’t feel a part of.

And then things got better.

He went up on medication, became more stable, and rode more highs than lows by the year’s fast approaching end. Keith was sucker punched further into his life once an onslaught of jealousy and attraction drove Lance over the edge nearly one too many times.

The money he’d earned over the summer was spent freely on holiday gifts for his family. A chorus of _“Thank you Lance”_ s rang about the living room that gleamed from colorful Christmas lights strung around their messy tree. The deed felt like too much but not enough.

_He’s deep cleaning his room, going through everything-_ everything. _The clutter has poured off the shelves, out of his nightstand drawers, and now claws at him mentally, begging for organization. It makes him overwhelmed to an unbearable degree._

 _He wanted to learn more languages. A lot. He could learn how to play the piano too; he could read all those books he’s left on the shelf for too long; he could ride his bike around the neighborhood and be more active but he’ll have to get back to that because he’s busy with so much_ opportunity _._

‘You’re out of touch, I’m out of time-‘

_“Brian, turn it down!”_

‘-f my head when you’re not around’

_“I thought you liked this song!”_

_He does, he loves it. Just a couple days before was he twirling about their living room while the catchy chorus thrummed off every surface from the speakers high volume. Zadia was clung to his side, propped on his hip and her braids swished about with every turn he made. Brian was smoothing down his shirt when Lance darted his way, slo-mo punching him to get the boy giggling like his sister._

_“Eurgh, just turn it_ off!”

He ended up arguing with his family. Every creek from the floorboards and shriek from the kids and Veronica’s attitude and struggling with his place in his friend group— it all made him snap. 

_“I’m always the one to get in trouble here, huh?! Why can’t you lecture_ them _for once?!”_

 _“I am, Lance! They’re_ kids, _you either be patient or leave!” His mother stands on the other side of the hallway and jabs her hands through the air to accentuate every word shot his way, but it feels hostile and he can’t help his sudden surge of defense._

_“Then fucking_ kick me out already _!”_

Lance’s picture in their hallway no longer shines from a glass cover, and the top left corner is slightly detached from where the frame is meant to connect. Maybe that was good though, because seeing a faint reflection of himself in the glass after the incident would’ve only made him feel disappointed in himself. And his mom was more upset with _him_ than about how he’d smashed his picture onto the floor, but that fact didn’t (and still doesn’t) ease his guilt every time he passes by.

He hopes Hunk is right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/knockoffery)
> 
> Please do not use this as a scientific reference for bipolar symptoms, this is somewhat of a projection of my personal experience but all patients are different.
> 
> [A scene from Euphoria](https://youtu.be/4ymuFsuonvI) that I feel strongly and accurately (in my opinion) portrays the euphoric vs agitated sides of mania.
> 
> Also! Keith’s name sign is not “virgin” backwards, Keith is with a K and Virgin is with a V, the movement is also different. Pidge is just trying to make fun of him lol  
> That’s how it is in ASL, if you use the wrong handshape or movement then it’s a completely different meaning. Same with changing one letter in a written language  
> Here is the sign for [virgin](https://www.signingsavvy.com/search/virgin) in case anyone is curious. Keith’s name sign is a K that only slides up the jaw/cheek where his scar is


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I uhhh…” He stalls because okay, he didn’t plan this far, but he’s gonna have to pull through anyway. What’s the right way to say this? His mom already knows he’s bisexual, has even told him she almost gave out his number to a stranger (multiple times). If anything, she’d probably be proud he ended up with a guy. Something about his dramatic ass needing to be put in place. Jokes on her, his boyfriend is just as much of a drama queen.
> 
> “Me and Keith are like.. dating now. So yeah.”

“Mom,” He says over the phone when she picks up on the third ring.

“Hey honey, Hunk told me you went to his house. Do you feel better now?” She asks and it makes him feel uncomfortable in his own skin, like he shouldn’t be treated with such patience, yet here they are.

He swallows, squeezes his eyes shut then opens them to stare ahead as blankly as he could muster. His mother’s question is tossed aside because the most important thing at the moment is saying— “I’m sorry.”

Every time things blow out of proportion, his mom is the one person he’ll come crawling back to in a desperate need for reassurance. It’s unfair for her to deal with these sudden fits between him and his siblings, but Coran, his therapist, has taught him it’s just another thing parents have learned to deal with.

_—“I feel like I’m always causing some sort of problem at home.” He picked at the hole in his worn, hand-me-down jeans for comfort._

_Coran’s gaze was the only thing holding him up from the surface of his spiraling doubt. Sometimes it was less enticing and more engaging; Lance was curious what he had to say about the situation, whether the feedback was something to like or not._

_“Between a parent and child, sometimes that’s how it’s supposed to be. It isn’t just you, Lance. Your siblings probably feel the same way and maybe even your parents._ Everyone _is still learning.—_

“Your sister has trouble with being included, and you know that, Lance,” His mom replies calmly— tiredly too. _She’s got other things than yourself to deal with_ , he’s reminded. He has half a mind to be embarrassed about this whole situation because it’s repeated so many times, but that’s how families work, fighting over basically the same shit all the damn time.

But he and Veronica especially go head to head. Growing up with a deaf sibling was so _normal_ to him, and it was probably because he was born after her. Anything his parents learned about raising a deaf child was also somewhat projected onto him, either accidentally or intentionally, he still doesn’t know. All he _does_ know is that he and Veronica —only half a year apart— have been on equal ground since day one, and that’s why it’s so hard for him to realize the rest of the world isn’t the same way. They watched _Signing Time_ together since they were two, chopped off each other’s hair playing “salon” at five, _accidentally_ broke her wrist at eight, made fun of each other, yanked ears, kicked shins, butt heads _all_ _the time_ so Veronica being discluded based on her deafness was never an issue between _them_ , but instead, everyone else. It eventually turned into something she became insecure about, and that’s one thing Lance could understand in a different context

He didn’t intentionally leave her out of the conversation— well, maybe that’s not true. He’s not sure how he’d break the news of dating Keith since he hadn’t the chance anyway. But he wasn’t _trying_ to use Veronica’s deafness to an advantage, or to insult her, and that should count for something.

“Yeah, I know, but I wanted to tell you something and she just annoyed me.”

“What is it you want to tell me Lance?” his mom asks more like a statement than a question.

“I uhhh…” He stalls because okay, he didn’t plan this far, but he’s gonna have to pull through anyway. What’s the right way to say this? His mom already knows he’s bisexual, has even told him she _almost_ gave out his number to a stranger (multiple times). If anything, she’d probably be proud he ended up with a guy. Something about his dramatic ass needing to be put in place. Jokes on her, his boyfriend is just as much of a drama queen.

“Me and Keith are like.. dating now. So yeah.”

  
  


Well that was bland as shit.

  
  


“Keith...” His mom pauses for a moment. “The one in your group? I thought we didn’t like him?” We. Because his mom is the first person he gossips to out of anyone in his life, but Keith has recently been subjected to the same kind of torture.

“Yeah well things have changed and I like him now. A lot,” he says simply and this entire thing is almost laughable.

His mom chuckles then hums for a moment. “That’s really nice, Lance. Honestly, when you were always talking about him I did think you two would be cute together—“

“OKAY mom that’s good to know, welp-! Keith’s gonna drop me off so don’t embarrass me,” he tries for a promise.

“Alright, mijo…”

  
  


So promise totally broken. First, by forcing him to bring Keith inside because _“I just want to say hi!”_ . Yeah, they both knew that was some BS. It took a few long seconds of Keith watching from his truck for Lance to get inside safely (what a gentleman, Lance has to outdo him sometime…), while he turned from his mother in the doorway, to Keith, and back again before _finally_ groaning and making his way back to the truck. 

The look on Keith’s face when Lance signed, _‘My mom wants you to come in,’_ was nearly identical to the time Lance surprised him with a rose at work last week: confused, and a little happy.

Keith has met his family before, though, and Lance should’ve known that his mother’s overly-doting care for Keith must’ve been some subtle sign of _“I approve of this one.”_

It’s been an hour and a half now and his mother has shown Keith a picture of him with his head stuck in a chair (he was five, okay?), served him two helpings of dinner, and told Keith nearly all of the embarrassing things he’d said in the past behind Keith’s back at the dinner table. Even though Lance no longer has to hide the fact that he finds his own boyfriend attractive, it’s embarrassing to have it said at the dinner table where Jaden helpfully adds _‘He talked about your hair a_ lot _!’_ and dramatically drags his hand out to extend the farthest his bony arms could reach.

It’s just something about dudes with long hair that drive him a little wild (in a terribly good way). Despite the proclaimed status of their rivalry before, he recalls nights where his mind wandered a bit too far and next thing he knows Keith’s choppy, smooth hair is an image he’s dying to see again.

Keith’s hair is in a ponytail right now, with his bangs and a few more tufts hanging loose at the front. Lance tends to twirl those pieces around his finger, and somehow the fleeting touches get Keith to fall asleep. The other day, he had trailed his nails down the others _shirtless_ (be still, his heart) back since Keith made fun of him for watching ASMR, so he figured he’d show Keith what it felt like. Instead of resulting in some pleasant relaxation though, Lance’s shirt ended up across the room and they were only a hair’s breadth away from being caught when Keith groaned from Lance’s leg on his crotch. 

  
  


They’ll have to get back to that moment… but obviously not at the dinner table.

  
  


‘Keith is coming with me,’ He announces and pushes himself up from his seat, swatting Keith’s arm along the way. He uses Keith’s more common, less embarrassing (thanks to Pidge) name sign that swirls over the other bicep instead of sliding up the jaw. And if Jaden is anything like Pidge (he is), he’ll connect it to the word “virgin” in an instant and Lance just can’t have that. What Lance _can_ have is a cool boyfriend with a name sign after his tattoo, and will most definitely be impressing the twins with his _Guitar Hero_ skills laters tonight.

The first time he watched Keith play, it was at Pidge and Matt’s house. He stood behind the couch absolutely _losing it_ over Keith killing it at _Thunderstruck_ at 200% speed. It took a few tries, but once Keith was in the zone, Lance was hollering from the back so as not to distract but just endure the excitement. It was definitely hot too, and the things he’d do to see Keith play an actual guitar —which apparently he _used_ to, and that counts for something—, whew…

‘How do I look?’ Keith asks once they’re both in Lance’s room, safe from the absolute harassment his family put him through (not being dramatic, nope).

‘S-E-X-Y’ He sweet talks —or signs, in this case—, even though the hat Keith snagged is baby blue with a little teddy bear above the cap. He looks adorable, actually.

Keith hums and steps closer, the carpet dragging under his feet along the way. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ Lance nods and latches onto the belt loops of Keith’s jeans.

What was _supposed_ to be a kiss, turned out to be Lance getting bopped in the forehead and stumbling back against his desk. He hears a sudden rattle and the surface under his fingertips buzz before something topples over and nudges his hand.

It’s his medication, and also a reminder of why he’s got Keith up here to begin with.

‘What’s that?’ Keith asks and leans around him to pick up the bottle, taking off Lance’s hat along the way. He doesn’t bother stopping Keith since it’s not something he’s willing to hide at this point.

Keith reads the label and Lance’s name printed across the middle, likely confirming it’s his prescription. Something seems to click in Keith’s mind; he stops turning the bottle in the palm of his hand, but his brows stay furrowed.

‘It’s my medication,’ Lance explains, and takes the bottle with faltering shaky hands, hoping Keith won’t notice. He sets it on the desk and turns back to Keith, who wears an unreadable expression. It takes a moment for his eyes to lock with Lance’s. ‘I’m B-I-P-O-L-A-R.’

The statement has him exhaling a defeated, albeit relieved, breath. It’s no longer his move, and even though he prepares for Keith with a ridiculously overwhelming anticipation, it feels a little better to have some pressure off.

‘B-I-P-O-L-A-R?’ Keith mimics with a questioning stare.

Lance nods and makes his way to the bed, seating himself on the edge instead of staying wedged against the desk. Keith remains standing.

‘Is that a problem?’ He tries to ask without hostility, but his heart is racing a little. It’s _Keith_ , he shouldn’t have to be worried but he can’t help but wonder what if…

Keith shakes his head. ‘My dad has it too.’

Well that’s a bit of a surprise. ‘Which…’

‘My birth dad,’ Keith clarifies and takes a seat next to him. He puts the cap on Lance’s head backwards with a little smirk.

Lance doesn’t know much about Keith’s family or how his current one came to be. He only knows Keith’s mother is remarried to Shiro’s dad and, well, that’s about it. ‘I’m sorry,’ he feels the need to say, the lack of information tugs a certain guilt out of him. He’s bipolar, Keith’s birth father is too, Keith’s father is now out of the picture, who knows how that happened. But having a commonality with someone who seemed to have hurt his boyfriend in the past feels a bit unfair, maybe for the both of them.

‘I don’t mind,’ Keith edges closer and plants a kiss to Lance’s temple, then squishing his cheeks a little when noticing Lance’s pout.

‘Keith…’ He still pouts a little, lowering his head to look at Keith skeptically but the man’s not having it.

‘Lance,’ He signs. The little smile makes his heart flutter, and his chest swells the same way it would if a lover verbally called out his name. ‘Your eyes are so blue,’ Keith squishes Lance’s cheeks one more time to plant an embarrassingly uncoordinated kiss to his lips. This boy has a way with him and he knows it, that little shit.

‘Stop flirting! This is serious,’ He tries, but Keith is now leaned back against the pillows, humorously peeking through a frame made with his hands. Lance swats them away and crosses his arms over Keith’s bent knees.

‘I’m gonna take a picture,’ Keith says with finality and grabs his phone out from his front pocket. His attention span is all over the place today, Lance is starting to think he’s just dating a puppy.

**Space Cowboys**

**_Stupidhead ❤️ sent an image_ **

**Asshole:** he looks like a frat boy

keith can be my sorority girl 😍

nevermind he just punched me 🤩

 **Queen!:** Are you FUCKING KIDDONG ME

I knew it OMG I called it

Just read the earlier messages

kiddong

how’s the rich life allura

 **Queen!:** Quite well excuse my outburst

Anyway I knew you two would end up together

What’s the thing you guys say? No cap?

fkskfndksk

yes no cap

 **Stupidhead ❤️:** How did you know before? I thought being a dick was a sign you didn’t like someone? Hmm

————————

Lance’s turn to punch him, but Keith only giggles and it turns into a full blown laugh once Lance jabs at his ticklish neck.

Keith’s laugh is one of the best sounds he’s ever heard, and it slightly upsets him that Keith himself isn’t able to hear it. But Veronica once told him that while hearing people pay attention to the laugh, she watches the smile and to her it’s just as good. The memory makes him melt a little, considering that’s how his dimpled cheek inspired his own name sign.

His mom swings open the door and the swish of air it brings has Lance’s posters fluttering along the wall. Keith’s laughter dies down once he becomes aware of the added presence, then licks his lips nervously.

‘No funny business!’ His mom signs and speaks without hostility. She blows them a kiss and shakes an ILY in their direction before closing the door again.

‘I like her,’ Keith signs with a relaxed smile.

‘What about me?’ Lance asks him jokingly and slings his arm over the others waist.

“I love you,” Keith says each word with care and through a breath, like Lance could catch his voice in a gentle breeze. His hands move to confirm this statement along the way.

“I love you too,” He says and signs back, then scoots closer to pull Keith into a slow and heartfelt kiss.

When he goes to pull back, Keith tugs him even closer, running a hand up the back of Lance’s head until his hat slips off and Lance’s messy hair is free to comb through. He’s not complaining, like ever when it comes to this attention, so he lets Keith’s tongue slide through his mouth and make him shudder for the millionth time. Let’s himself cop a feel of Keith’s ass while they’re at it because he really will never get over this constant privilege. And Keith pretends it doesn’t affect him even though Lance feels that set of teeth bite a little harder.

When he becomes aware of the sounds beyond his door and the fact that it’s _unlocked_ , he snatches a couple more kisses before pulling away, much to Keith’s dismay.

‘The door is unlocked,’ he explains from underneath Keith, who seemed to have rolled over him during their session. His hand flops back down to rub under the hem of Keith’s shirt, his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake while his boyfriend leans back down to nudge their noses without care for what’s been said.

Lance rolls his eyes and dodges the advance in favor of a cheek kiss before slipping out of bed.

‘Why does it matter?’ Keith asks even though the look on his face says it all.

‘You know why,’ He responds and turns the lock, then makes his way back to Keith’s grabby hands.

Guitar Hero can wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/knockoffery)
> 
> lol kinda gave up at the end hopefully it’s not noticeable but i’ve been trynna get this chap over with so i can get new stuff in anyway


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s still a lot more for them to learn about each other, about their bodies, about their past, but he doesn’t want to think about that because Lance is one of the few people he’s got. Even if it’s just for now, he’ll be damned if that stops him from going all in.
> 
> [Brief mentions/implied sexual content throughout the chapter, nothing entirely explicit]

**Lance 💙**

hey stupidhead

What is it Lance

:( don’t use that tone i’m trying to be your boyfriend here

You’re already my boyfriend and you just called me a stupidhead.

okay well just listen

i found this really cute pic and it reminded me of us 💕 

Aw that’s very cute

I wanna be the light one

but i wanna be the light one

you’re the one i’m kissing because your hair is dark

and i’m taller than you

Yeah by like one inch but ok

i am just trying to be happy on a stick with you keith

broomstick

i forgot the word for a second

What’s the Spanish word for kitten?

gatito

the o is for boys

los gatitos se besan

“the kittens are kissing”

Too bad we can’t kiss

WHAT why??

That’s gay, Lance

i was about halfway down your pants this morning and you’re saying this bs

Our lips did not touch

yes they DID

several times!!

“Don’t remember, didn’t happen”

woww okay i see

someone’s getting revenge

you happy now?

Their lips did, in fact, touch. He just likes being a shit.

They’ve gotten more intimate recently too. At first, while Lance was hesitant about undressing himself, he had no problem getting the OK for driving Keith over the edge with that fuckin _mouth_ or a hand in his pants. And vice versa, if he could get Lance sidetracked from his anxiety, then he finds that his ridden up shirt and unzipped jeans aren’t a problem. He still has trouble understanding those initial insecurities, but it’s also something he had dealt with before— only to an extent, though.

Lance had loved on him since day one it seems, albeit timidly at first. He’s gone out of his way to spoil him, which is totally unfair and now they literally _race_ each other just to smugly hold open a door. Before, the idea of commitment had Keith flying away to a more comfortable state of isolation multiple times. But something about Lance has hooked him in and kept him planted firmly in place, part of the reason must be how lighthearted they’ve made their dynamic. The stupid, silly moments have his mind constantly playing them on a loop, and the bliss even chases him into dreams that hold a strange air of nostalgia.

Dreams that he can’t quite describe, but has tried to anyway for the sake of Lance’s curiosity at the first mention. He classified each aspect of the setting: an endless curving road around hills spotted with saguaros that blossomed crowns of vibrant flowers, the orange and pink sky with fluffy purple clouds floating overhead like a moving painting, and he and Lance driving to wherever the road will take their adventurous souls. Everything was completely still too, vacant of any roaming pedestrians or zooming cars, like a blanket of just _quiet_ had fallen over their entire town to give them a chance to catch their breath.

Lance says Keith could be a poet; Keith doesn’t mind the idea. His story had apparently spurred something in his boyfriend that tempted a spark of impulsivity. ‘We could go now,’ He signed with an utterly convincing gaze. ‘We could put our lives on hold.’

That was one of the moments Keith was most reminded Lance is _far_ from becoming sick or tired of their relationship. Though he hasn’t told Lance quite yet about the constant undertone of doubt he’s learned to deal with, hasn’t talked about the giant impression his father just up and _leaving_ made on his life because ‘Another time’, he tells himself. Another time so he doesn’t kill the mood.

**Space Cowboys**

**Lance 💙:** if anyone ever asks that dumb question of who’s the man in mine and keith’s relationship, i will be saying me because naturally i am just better than him

You seem to be claiming men are superior… I think Allura should give you a nice little visit

 **Lance 💙:** NO

NOT WHAY I IMPLIED

Also you may be opening doors and being a gentleman, but you’re the little spoon and by that means by default: you are the little spoon in this relationship because I’m not sexist

 **Pidge:** one time i saw lance refuse to get up from somewhere so keith just grabbed him and flung him over his shoulder so i think that says a lot

 **Lance** 💙 **:** and? i have picked keith up on multiple occasions you guys just haven’t seen 😈

Yeah whatever

 **Lance 💙:** and you were like stopp 😍 and i was like “baby i’d carry you everywhere”

 **Pidge:** oh really? and you signed this to your deaf boyfriend while holding him up with your arms?

Yeah Lance I don’t recall…

 **Lance 💙:** okay fine!! but you were allll over me and my amazing charm

 **Allura:** Wow Lance, I didn’t take you as the type of man with a superiority complex, hm.

 **Lance 💙:** queen, i deeply apologize i was trying to bully my boyfriend but there are several more appropriate ways to do that

...in bed of course ;)

 **Allura:** Ugh, bye

Keith isn’t quite sure of the effect he’s got on Lance until he turns around in his new getup. All the while he’d been slugging on the pair of jeans, it was half intentional his ass was bent in Lance’s direction, just to mess with him. He pulled them up with one last jump-and-tug before slinging a thick, worn brown belt through each loop.

It started as a joke. Lance’s father’s side of the family is a bunch of hicks that meet all kinds of country stereotypes according to the frayed pictures pinned about Lance’s bedroom. His boyfriend was a looker in them too, all sweaty hair and denim with a loose cross necklace hung around his long neck, teeth white as ever. The most recent photo seemed to be from a few years ago, and when Keith had plucked the frame off Lance’s nightstand, the boy cooly watched as Keith speculated his teenage, and apparently _yeehaw_ , side.

‘Your family a bunch of cowboys?’ He asked Lance with a smirk thrown over his shoulder, then looked at another similar photo but with a thick bearded and meaty man sat in a rocking chair at Lance’s side. His head was thrown back and a cheery smile stretched underneath his withering mustache, and Lance watched him delightedly, as one hand steadied a white cowboy hat atop his own head.

Lance had rolled his eyes. ‘My dad’s side is a bunch of _H-I-C-K-_ S-P-A-N-I-C-S,’ he accentuated his play on words. Keith huffed a laugh.

‘Why don’t we get you dressed up like that right now?’ Lance offered with a challenging lilt to his expression.

And now they’re here, with Keith turned the other way, shrugging on a blue and black flannel that sat almost a little too snug around his arms. Lance must’ve had it sitting in his closet for a while, going by the pleated edges from folds that molded for long enough to need ironing now. The white hat sits atop his dresser innocently too, looking pretty much the same as it apparently had years before, save for a layer of dust that clings stubbornly to its edges. He sighs dramatically and though he can’t hear Lance’s reaction, he’s about 90% sure his boyfriend is laughing.

After running a hand through his choppy hair one last time, he takes the rim of the hat and flips it neatly onto his head, securing it in place a little then brushing down the flannel’s wrinkles.

‘Buttoned or unbuttoned?’ He asks Lance once he turns around and cocks his hip. Not gonna lie, the outfit feels pretty good to wear for some reason, and it’s probably because he’s mostly only ever lazed around in sweats and T-shirts.

Lance’s phone drops from his hovering grasp and lands smack down on the center of his chest. He stares on at Keith unflinchingly anyway, and takes a moment to assess the sight before him. Or more like, several moments.

Keith crosses his arms over his bare chest, waiting patiently as his boyfriend loses and gains his wits for a faltering minute or so. So he looks good is what’s going on, judging by the rising blush that spreads up Lance’s frozen face.

Lance’s mouth forms an O and he rises off the pillows to sit at the edge of his bed, making grabby hands in Keith’s direction. Keith laughs, stepping across the carpet in heavy boots that cover the cuffs of his jeans.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he watches Lance say as soon as the boy has dragged him over by the belt loops and runs his hands down Keith’s body shamelessly. ‘S-E-X-Y,’ Lance drags out the Y before curling his thumbs around Keith’s peeking hips.

He laughs and lifts the hat off his head to swing onto Lance’s, whose eyes stay trained on everything _Keith_ and nothing else. He’s quite the fan of the attention. ‘Thank you.’

Lance flops back onto the bed with a smirk. ‘Go on,’ he motions. ‘Ride me, cowboy.”

Keith is so done with his boyfriend. Kind of. Okay, just know the exasperation is there at least _mentally_ , but it’s at least not enough to keep him from leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to Lance’s lips, laughably opposite to what had been implied before. But Lance rolls with it anyway, his mouth stretching back just a bit from a content smile before his lips come back with more depth, and it leaves Keith a little breathless, partly from the kissing and partly from the ache in his shoulder when he remains propped on his elbow a bit longer that he can handle.

He adjusts his position to balance a bit more correctly, and it pays off once Lance’s hands roam under the flannel’s cheap cloth and over the expanse of skin underneath. It tickles a little, to a point where Keith can manage the wave of goosebumps it brings rather than flinch away. There’s still a lot more for them to learn about each other, about their bodies, about their _past_ , but he doesn’t want to think about that because Lance is one of the few people he’s got. Even if it’s just for now, he’ll be damned if that stops him from going all in.

One of the many nice things about kissing Lance without hurry is being able to swim through experience with full intent, as opposed to the occasional lust-driven experience that makes his heart thunder with enough force to feel it pulsing at his otherwise purposeless eardrums. Not to be mistaken, the excitement is there, he’s _way_ down for it because honestly the beginnings of a relationship have brought just an onslaught of horniness, and it’s funny to think about when they’re not actually occupied with sex- or at least the forms they’ve been doing now.

So anyways it’s something to indulge in in the meantime, from the grounding hands that rove over his back to the way their lips sometimes linger just enough to pull away with clipped endings. He wonders if it makes a certain sound, and if Lance finds it as enjoyable as Keith does the sensation. And along with it are the subtle puffs of air that brush his cheeks and upper lip when either of them release a breath. Then the rise and fall of Lance’s chest underneath him, and an inevitable rock of his hips.

Right, they’re probably gonna be getting it on anyway, but well, the build up is at least there. So Keith rocks back and deals with the little swivels, trying to swat away the memory of Lance’s ridiculous hip shaking when he dances to music. Sometimes Keith suspects there’s not even a song playing and it’s just some move for Lance to try and earn a laugh out of him. It always works, whether Keith is already caught in the rhythm of happiness, or he’s trying to suppress a smile for whatever petty reason.

He’ll even do similar things himself to lighten Lance’s mood when his boyfriend is noticeably swinging low. Like, here he is, literally playing dress up for the other’s sake since he loves him for one, and the past couple of days have curiously taken a toll on Lance’s usual high energy. So if it takes a goofy drawing or absurd text, or giving Lance some irregular and totally off pace “ride” in this case just to feed some sense of excitement, then he’ll take up the chance.

Lance groans and it buzzes over Keith’s chest from their now consuming closeness. He pushes up, using his heels as leverage just to catch the hem of his pants along Keith’s belt and press together for relief. On one side, their hands intertwine and tighten from every undulation, and on the other Lance latches onto the base of Keith’s neck while Keith keeps steady from his hold on the sheets. It weirdly resembles a dance, if the commitment for grace was replace with just a spiked sex drive. He’s really gotta stop letting his mind wander or this is gonna end up as another moment he can’t quite take seriously.

He gives a final tug at Lance’s mouth before heading on to the column of his throat, pressing a scattered path over the tender skin until he nips at the juncture right at the base, shy of the collarbone right underneath Lance’s shirt. It makes Lance jump a little, and inevitably Keith too, making him suck in a sudden breath at the same time he feels a pointed couple pats on his hip.

They’ve established a few basic acts as signal for a necessary pause, either for break and/or communication, so he’s quick to lean back from the cue and turn his attention back to Lance’s need over his interest in getting a move on.

Lance smiles, the corners of his eyes pinching a little while he lifts his free hand to sign. ‘Your B-E-L-T’ —he nods downward— ‘It’s hurting me a little. Mind if I… take it off?’ He smirks with a little humor, then adds ‘No, seriously, it was still kind of uncomfortable’ when Keith leveled him with a skeptical look.

‘Fine,’ Keith says in a smooth motion with an amused smile. ‘Go ahead.’ He juts his hips slightly for Lance to unwind their hands and reach out easily to unbuckle with a little less difficulty, even though it still takes a few tries and makes both of them chuckle.

The belt finally slides out of each loop before Lance carelessly tosses it to the ground and turns his attention to Keith’s mostly bare torso. He grabs onto Keith’s sides and digs his thumb in a couple times before retracting to sign again.

‘So,’ he starts, giving Keith a charming look that could be intentional and could be just second nature. ‘We gonna…’ His fingers pinch over his thumb to form a loose fist, and his wrist flicks in the universal sign for jacking off, because of course Keith should’ve known that this boy’s manners are pretty short-lived.

Keith feels his face loosen and his lids lower in exasperation. ‘I hate you,’ he signs and hunches over just to drag out the act.

When he lifts his head back up, Lance’s brows are still raised in question and Keith can’t help giving him a short kiss. ‘Yes’ —he laughs— ‘we’ll do that.’

Lance lights up and pumps his open hand in the air a couple times. ‘Wonderful!’

And in a clumsy fit of laughs and renewed energy, they flop over and dive right into it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of this chapter feels a bit weak because it was sitting in my drafts for like a month before I finally continued/finished. I feel like my writing has improved some, hopefully yall can appreciate lol
> 
> Check my socials for updates on my works:  
> instagram: @glockery
> 
> twitter/tumblr: @highendhoes
> 
> Edit: Just realized I had Lance fingerspell “belt” instead of signing or just pointing to it whoops. But remember Keith made fun of his spelling mistake? See just pretend Lance is proving a point :) Plus the sign requires both hands anyway and these bfs don’t wanna let go lol


	10. Announcement!

A/N:

I’d just like to announce that chapter 9 is considered the last chapter of  _ this _ work now, but it is not the end! I’ve decided that this will potentially become a deaf Keith x hearing Lance series, that way I can separate my old content (this fic) from any new additions! I still hold this concept dear to me, but this story had no direction since it was solely for fun and projection. Now that I’m a more experienced writer, I’ll be adding short oneshots with more solid characterization and (possibly) plot (lol). Thank you all sooo much for the support, and if y’all would like to continue supporting this work, subscribe to/bookmark the series for updates!

— <3

**Author's Note:**

> exclusive fics on [my instagram](https://instagram.com/arcadevia?igshid=1bqu2rmbht9gq)


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